


Jealousy

by Miko



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-18
Updated: 2005-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 92,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you don't appreciate the value of what you've got, until you don't have it any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first real indication Shishido had that anything was up was less of a clue, and more of a whack to the back of the head by a clue-by-four. When Hiyoshi cornered him just after class one afternoon to demand to know why he'd lost his best doubles player, Shishido just stared at him for a long moment in incomprehension.

"The fuck are you on about?" he finally asked the scowling junior. "The seniors retired a month ago. And what the hell do you expect me to do about it anyway? If Atobe couldn't convince the school board to let us all keep playing, nobody can."

The scowl turned into a look of genuine surprise. "You mean you don't know?" Hiyoshi said, now seeming more curious than anything. "I thought you of all people..."

"If you don't start making sense in the next thirty seconds, I'm going to try smacking you to see if that resets your brain," Shishido threatened the younger boy, rolling his eyes.

"You really don't know." Hiyoshi gave him a measuring look. Before Shishido could move to carry out his threat he was totally derailed by the junior's next words. "Ohtori resigned this morning. Just showed up, handed over his jacket and resignation letter, and left before I got a chance to talk to him."

Gaping in utter shock, Shishido just stared at him, unable to form coherent words. Finally he managed to prod his brain into working again. "Choutarou... quit the team?" The very words sounded funny in his mouth, like he was speaking a foreign language. It certainly wasn't making any sense to him. "But... did he lose his spot on the regulars?" Surely Ohtori would have _mentioned_ being defeated in the rankings...

Hiyoshi shook his head. "We've got ranking matches coming up next week, and he's been having trouble deciding who to play with as his new partner, but he wasn't in any danger of losing his place. The only explanation he gave in the letter was 'time conflicts', and I haven't been able to corner him. So I thought I'd ask you." His surprise that Shishido didn't know what was going on was no less than the senior's own.

"I'll talk to him," Shishido promised, feeling like he was in shock. His mind whirled as he tried to think. It was Friday, so there was no afternoon tennis practice; where would Ohtori be? Oh, right. "He's got orchestra rehearsal today, I'll catch him as he comes out of it. There's... there's gotta be some kind of reasonable explanation for this."

Hiyoshi nodded shortly. "I want him back," the new Hyoutei captain said bluntly. "Our doubles pairs aren't nearly as strong this year as they were last year. I need him. Tell him I haven't passed his resignation on to Kantoku yet, so he's got until Monday to change his mind."

With that the junior turned and stalked off, leaving Shishido utterly confused behind him.

 _What the hell is going on?_ Shishido shifted the weight of his bag to his other hand, and turned to head for the music wing. Granted, he hadn't seen much of his former partner over the last month since the seniors had retired; the stress of studying for the ascension exams had begun to set in for everyone in their third year. Without the regular practices pulling them together, and being in different years, he and Ohtori simply didn't run across each other very often. Shishido had been _intending_ to call the younger boy, really he had. He'd just been so busy, and it always seemed like there'd be plenty of time to get around to it eventually.

The music department wasn't exactly familiar territory, but he'd been there a few times before, either waiting for Ohtori or accompanying him while he dropped by to get something. He knew the orchestra practices were held in the auditorium, so they'd be accustomed to the acoustics when they played in concert.

Or so Ohtori had told him; it was mostly gibberish to him.

He did know that the Hyoutei music department was one of the best equipped in Tokyo, if not Japan. This was not terribly surprising; Atobe might not be involved in music, but he'd only paid for _half_ of the renovations to Hyoutei's tennis club. The rest had been paid for by their coach - who also happened to be the head of the music department.

That had made it much easier for Ohtori to be involved in both tennis and music. Since Sakaki had to be present for both practices, there were no conflicts between the two clubs. Unless Ohtori had somehow done the impossible and picked up a _third_ club, he shouldn't have been having any time conflicts as he'd claimed in his letter.

Knowing he was going to have at least an hour to wait before the orchestra practice let out, but not wanting to go elsewhere and risk missing his friend, Shishido slipped into the back of the auditorium as quietly as he could. He settled into a shadowed corner in the back, prepared to wait. He'd done it a few times before, when he and Ohtori had made plans for after the practice and it hadn't seemed worth it for Shishido to go home only to have to turn around and come back.

It wasn't like it was a hardship to sit there. Shishido didn't know much about music, but the Hyoutei orchestra was _good_ , even when they were just running through the same passage over and over again in an attempt to perfect it. They were doing something that seemed to focus on the interplay between the violin and piano, with the rest of the orchestra providing background accentuation. To his delight, but not really his surprise, he saw that the person playing the main violin line was Ohtori.

 _Looks like he finally got that first chair spot he's been lusting after,_ he thought, shifting in his seat with a proud grin. Sakaki, in the conductor's spot, was stopping and starting them, having them play the same thing with different interpretations of the passage. Even with the stop-and-go playing, Ohtori looked like he was totally absorbed in the music, putting his heart and soul into it. Shishido watched, and more importantly, he listened. Despite his lack of knowledge in this area, it was clear to him that Ohtori more than deserved the solo.

Well, duet. He had to admit the pianist was fairly impressive as well. A slender boy with dark green hair as long as Shishido's had once been, the other musician was just as into his music as Ohtori. It was, Shishido reflected as he listened to the melodies intertwine, kind of like playing doubles. There was the same dependence on the other player, the same need to trust that your partner would be where he was supposed to be.

When Sakaki finally relented on the minute dissection of the duet passage, he had the orchestra go back and play through the piece from start to finish. It wasn't perfect yet; even the Hyoutei orchestra needed practice to master a piece of this complexity. But it was good enough to sweep Shishido away on the swell of music, totally absorbing him in it.

He was almost startled when it ended, the violin and piano being the last to fade out of the song. He _was_ startled when Sakaki clapped his hands sharply, and everyone started putting away their instruments and music. It couldn't have been a whole hour already, could it?

Sakaki had called Ohtori over the piano, and as Shishido stood to make his way to the front he could see his former partner frowning in concentration as Sakaki plainly gave the two boys further instructions. The expression brought back memories; Ohtori got the same intent look on his face when they were learning a new combination play or formation, or when he was about to smash his scud serve over the net and totally blow their opponents away.

"...practice on your own," Sakaki was saying as Shishido came within hearing range. He stayed outside of the orchestra pit to avoid interrupting, and none of the three saw him as he approached, too focused on each other. "As I've said before, Ohtori, Amano, you are the lynchpins for this performance. You will have to stretch yourselves a great deal to rise to the challenge, but I expect great things from both of you." At a chorus of soft agreement from both boys, Sakaki nodded in satisfaction. "Dismissed. I'll see you both tomorrow for the solo practice."

Ohtori turned and said something more to the pianist, too low for Shishido to hear him from this distance. The green-haired boy grinned and said something back that made Ohtori laugh brightly. Shishido's lips quirked at the sound. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the sound of that laughter. Yeah, he was definitely going to have to make an effort to call his former partner more often.

Then Ohtori lifted the hand not holding his violin and bow, and ran it briefly through the pianist's hair. It was a casual touch, nothing particularly intimate even for two boys, but Shishido felt oddly stunned at the sight of it. Hell, it wasn't like Ohtori didn't touch _him_ like that at every bloody opportunity. It had put Shishido off at first, but he'd kind of gotten used to it. There was just something... he couldn't have said for the life of him what it was exactly, but something about seeing him do it with someone else troubled him.

It took him a few moments to recover, and by then Ohtori had turned back towards his own seat, clearly intending to put his instrument away and pack up to go. Shishido moved forward to put himself more plainly into sight, and called out to get the younger boy's attention. "Yo, Choutarou!"

For the briefest of moments it seemed like Ohtori... _froze_. The tension in his back and shoulders might have been missed by someone who didn't know him well, but not by Shishido. Not after everything they'd been through together, everything they'd been to each other.

Then the tension was gone, sliding away into simple surprise as Ohtori turned to face him, and Shishido almost wondered if he'd imagined it. "Shishido-san!" Ohtori exclaimed, smiling at him. "What are you doing here? Did you sneak into the practice again?"

"Yeah, well, not like Kantoku can give me laps if he catches me at it now, can he?" Shishido retorted, making Ohtori's smile widen. "I was waiting for you."

"Waiting for me?" Ohtori looked puzzled now. "Why... oh. Hiyoshi talked to you, didn't he?" The smile slipped a bit as a wary look entered Ohtori's eyes, and the taller boy sighed. "I guess I should have expected that. I'm sorry, that must have been a little confusing for you."

Shishido jumped down into the pit as the younger boy moved to finish putting his violin away, standing over him as Ohtori fussed with the instrument in an obvious attempt to avoid meeting the senior's eyes. "Confusing? Totally shocking is more like it," Shishido said dryly. "Is it true, Choutarou? Did you really quit the team?"

Sighing, Ohtori gave up the attempt to avoid his eyes and looked up at him, sitting on his chair. "Yes, it's true. I had to make a choice. Sakaki-sensei said he couldn't give me the first chair if I remained in both clubs, because of all the extra practice it was going to require."

 _Damn._ Shishido winced slightly. He'd sometimes wondered, in the depths of his mind, what would happen if Ohtori were ever forced to make a choice between the two great passions in his life. Apparently he had the answer now.

Interpreting his expression correctly, Ohtori hastened to reassure him. "It's not like I'm giving up tennis, Shishido-san! I'm just not playing in the club. When it comes down to it... I'm not synching very well with any of the others willing to play doubles. And I don't like playing singles, you know that. My strengths lie in doubles. Even if I didn't end up eventually losing my spot on the regulars, I wouldn't be playing nearly as well next season as you and I did together this season." The junior shrugged. "I got to go to Nationals this season, with you. Now I want to do something just as important, in music."

Well, when he put it that way, the decision didn't seem so bad. Shishido could even sympathize; he wasn't quite sure _what_ he was going to do when he got to high school and started playing again, before Ohtori joined him. He'd figured he'd probably go back to singles for the duration, because he just couldn't imagine himself playing doubles with anyone but Ohtori.

"Hiyoshi's really irritated to be losing his best doubles player, you know," he said, and Ohtori laughed.

"He'll survive," the junior shook his head. "Honestly, the team will probably be better off this way. They'll be able to have two strongly bonded pairs again, instead of me and whoever I ended up pairing with."

"But you're still practicing, right?" That came out a little more anxious than Shishido had intended it to, and he bit his lip. "I mean, it'd suck if you let yourself get out of condition. We should practice together. It'll be good for both of us, and keep our combination strong." Pausing, he added in a rush, "Hell, there's all kinds of non-school related tournaments we could enter, come spring. It'd be good practice."

He was rewarded for the offer by another of Ohtori's bright smiles. "I'd like that, Shishido-san. I've missed playing with you. Tennis just didn't feel the same without you." His smile turned wry. "I kept expecting my new partners to be able to anticipate me like you could, and it wasn't working out very well."

Once again Shishido felt vaguely guilty for not making more of an attempt to keep in touch with the boy who was arguably his best friend. How had they managed to fall so far out of synch in just one month? Not that they'd ever spent a lot of time together outside of tennis, but they'd spent a _great deal_ of time together regardless.

 _He's got my phone number too,_ he reminded himself, trying to break the feeling of guilt. _We've both been busy. But it's not too late to fix that._

"You want to go play street tennis?" he offered impulsively. "It's Friday, I can put off studying for one night. We can go to the court near my place so I can grab my racquet. Or we could just practice here, since the courts are free, if you want to lend me one of yours and a spare jersey and shorts."

Ohtori looked stricken. "I can't, Shishido-san. I..."

"Hey, Choutarou, you almost ready to go?" The slightly impatient voice came from behind them, and Shishido turned in surprise. The dark-haired pianist was waiting at the edge of the orchestra pit, holding his music folder in one hand while he absently fiddled with a lock of his hair in the other. "If we don't get moving, by the time we're done dinner it'll be too late to practice without disturbing my parents."

"Almost, Kazuya," Ohtori placated him, and gave an apologetic smile to Shishido as he stood and scooped up his things. "I'm really sorry, Shishido-san. We've got a lot of work to do on this piece, and his mother's expecting us both for dinner. But call me some time, we'll go out and play."

Once again stunned, this time at being so easily brushed off, Shishido just stood and watched as Ohtori hurried up the steps out of the pit to join the other musician without so much as a last wave over his shoulder at his former partner. The green haired boy reached out and touched his arm briefly as he drew near, and murmured something that made Ohtori laugh again.

And then they were gone, leaving Shishido standing there in the empty auditorium, feeling like he'd been smacked in the face with a dead fish. _What the hell just happened?_

He couldn't remember Ohtori ever, _ever_ turning down an invitation to go out and play, or even just to go hang out and talk about tennis. Shishido had found out, somewhat to his chagrin, that Ohtori's grades had slipped a bit during the summer term because he always chose time with Shishido over studying. That was another reason he hadn't wanted to be so demanding on the junior's time now that they weren't playing.

Being brushed off like that didn't sit well with Shishido at all. There was something else there too, something that was bothering him. He didn't know what it was, couldn't put his finger on any of it, but the entire encounter left a bad taste in his mouth. He scowled in the direction the two boys had gone. Obviously, he was going to have to sit Ohtori down and have a long talk with him.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't until several days later that Shishido finally figured out exactly what had been bothering him so much about Friday's encounter. "He called him Kazuya," he blurted out as he was blindsided by the realization. He stared at the textbook he'd been (supposedly) studying from, the conversation replaying itself in his mind. Sakaki had definitely referred to the green-haired boy as 'Amano', and Kazuya was a given name. Ohtori, who still called _Shishido_ '-san', let alone the rest of his teammates, had called the boy by his given name.

"Uh..." The hesitant sound from his left drew his attention away from the book. He blinked as he saw that Atobe and Jirou were both staring at him, nonplussed. "Are you sure you're reading from the same book we are, Shishido?" Jirou asked, confused. "There aren't any characters named Kazuya in this one."

Flushing, Shishido shook his head. "Never mind," he muttered hastily, returning his attention to the book. They'd met at Atobe's to study, as they often did. It was just more comfortable there, where the servants would bring them snacks and drinks, and they had more than enough space to sprawl out over the desks.

Scowling at the book, he struggled to remember if he'd ever heard Ohtori call _anyone_ by given name. He definitely called Hiyoshi by his family name, though he had left off any honourific since they were in the same year. What about the rest of the music people? He'd heard his partner talking to them before, hadn't he? Did Ohtori call any of them by given name?

He couldn't remember for sure, but he didn't _think_ so. And as far as he was aware, _he_ was the only one allowed to call Ohtori 'Choutarou'. So who was this Amano guy, that he was close enough to Ohtori to have that kind of familiarity with him?

An old childhood friend, maybe? Shishido couldn't recall Ohtori ever having mentioned him before. Granted, they'd never really talked much about anything but tennis, but still. He knew Ohtori had an older sister and that his dad was a lawyer; he'd even met the younger boy's family a few times when he'd gone over to Ohtori's for one reason or another. The same was true in reverse. Why wouldn't Ohtori have ever mentioned a friend he was that close to? For that matter, _when_ would he have spent time with the other boy, considering the way Shishido had selfishly monopolized all his time last term?

"...Ryou!" The sound of his name made him snap his head up, and he found Atobe half-glaring at him in exasperation. Behind their former captain, Jirou had his head propped on his hand, but was still awake and looking at Shishido in a bemused way.

"What?" he snapped back, feeling oddly on the defensive. Atobe never called him by given name unless he was trying to be either particularly friendly or chewing him out for something, and Shishido wasn't sure what he'd have done to deserve either.

"I called you three times and you still didn't answer," Atobe informed him, raising an eyebrow at him. "I don't know what that hapless textbook did to offend you so, but you're going to burn a hole in it if you keep glaring at it that way."

"What's up, Shishido?" Jirou added, obviously concerned about his friend. "You've been out of sorts since Friday. I could tell even when I was half asleep."

Sighing, Shishido flung himself back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes. "It's nothing, guys. Sorry I'm being so distracted. I found out on Friday that Choutarou quit the team, and it threw me for a loop."

There was stunned silence from the other side of the table for a long moment, which made him feel a little better. At least he wasn't the only one who'd been shocked silly by the discovery. "I trust he had good reason for doing something like that?" Atobe finally drawled, regaining his composure faster than the blatantly gaping Jirou.

"He said Sakaki wouldn't give him the first chair in the orchestra unless he dropped tennis because it was going to mean a lot more practice," Shishido explained wearily. "And that, since he'd gone to Nationals with us last season, he wanted to do something equally important in music this year."

"But why didn't you know before?" Jirou asked, eyes wide. "I mean, you said you just found out on Friday. Didn't you guys talk about it before he decided?"

"I haven't..." Shishido flushed again, once more feeling guilty. "We haven't really spoken much lately. Well, hell, I've been here studying with you guys most nights, you know that."

Atobe and Jirou exchanged a look that felt significant somehow to Shishido, but he couldn't interpret it. "When was the last time you spoke to Ohtori, then?" Atobe wanted to know. "Surely this wasn't a decision he made on only a few days' thought. He's more serious than that."

The flush deepened. "I, uh... we haven't seen each other since, uh... since just after we retired from the club." When the two of them stared at him again in disbelief, he got defensive. "I've been _busy_ , damn it! It's only been one bloody month, and it's not like he's gone out of his way to see me either. But I talked to him on Friday, we're gonna go out and play street tennis sometime soon."

He couldn't help but be uneasy as he said it, though. He _had_ called, as Ohtori had suggested, early on Sunday morning. His former partner had sounded relatively glad to hear from him, but had begged off the game, saying he had prior plans. Which was certainly fair enough... except half a day of warning had never been too little in the past. Hell, ten minutes of warning was usually sufficient, as either of them would drop whatever they were doing if the other suggested they meet for a match.

And Ohtori had hung up before Shishido could arrange another time, later in the week. Shishido _still_ had a bad taste in his mouth from the whole encounter, but he'd just reminded himself that Ohtori had probably already been busy with whatever it was that was eating up his afternoon. Which, come to think of it, he hadn't said just _what_ he was doing, had he?

Shaking his head, Shishido glared back at his two best friends. "It's not a big deal, guys," he defended himself. "Honestly. Just a lack of communication. Why're you so worried, anyway?"

"Friendships can die from neglect," Atobe reminded him archly. "Even one as close as yours with Ohtori. Take care that doesn't happen, it would be a shame to break up a partnership as strong as yours."

"Geez, you'd think we had a fight or something," Shishido muttered, brushing off the words of warning with a queasy feeling in his stomach. _We've just been busy._ Both _of us, damn it. It's still no more my fault than his._ "Can we get back to studying now?"

The conversation stayed with him as he walked home later that night, however. Atobe's words about friendships and neglect kept ringing in his ears, making him want to bang his head against something solid to drive them out. Jirou's last words to him as they'd parted at the sleepy boy's door were also eating at him.

"Ohtori-kun really looks up to you, you know," Jirou had said, looking at him with an expression that was oddly neither sleepy nor excited. It had been almost serious, an emotion Shishido wasn't used to seeing from the other boy. "Be careful you don't make him think you're too busy for him, okay? You could really hurt him."

"I'm not too busy for him!" he'd protested. Indeed, it seemed as if the very opposite were true. "And I already said I'll call him. You worry too much, Jirou. Go inside and get to bed before you fall asleep on the stairs or something." Jirou had yawned and grinned at him before vanishing inside his house, leaving Shishido to continue the rest of the way to his place alone.

Now as he walked, he found himself brooding on it all until it was nearly driving him crazy. Growling to himself, he pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. It was kind of late, but he knew Ohtori tended to stay up late doing his homework because of all the time he put into practicing his violin and tennis. If he called the younger boy's cell instead of his home line, he shouldn't disturb his parents. And he could get this settled once and for all.

He punched the first button on his phone, which would speed-dial Ohtori's cell. Listening to it ring, he kicked a rock absently down the sidewalk in front of him. He was just starting to wonder if maybe Ohtori had left his phone somewhere when it was finally picked up.

"Shishido-san?" the familiar smooth voice came over the line, and Shishido's scowl melted away. "It's not like you to call me so late. Is something wrong?"

"Choutarou." He kicked the rock again, grinning now. "Sorry, I know it's late. Hope I didn't wake you. How'd you know it was me, anyway?"

"I've got my phone set to a different ring if the call is from your number," Ohtori informed him with a laugh. "Haven't you noticed I always know it's you? And you didn't wake me. I was just surprised, _you're_ usually getting ready for bed now."

It was funny, Shishido reflected as he kicked the rock again, how well they knew each other's schedules. They'd only worked together for a few months, really, but Shishido sometimes felt like Ohtori knew him better than even Atobe or Jirou, who'd been his friends since they were all little. He was fairly certain _they_ had no idea what time he typically went to bed.

"I was studying at Atobe's and decided to walk home," he said. "Figured the fresh air would help clear my head, or I'll be dreaming about variables doing the waltz with chemical formulae, or some shit like that." Ohtori chuckled, and the sound made Shishido's smile widen. "Listen, you seemed busy last time I called, so I didn't get a chance to ask. You want to get together this weekend? We can hit the street courts, make sure we're not getting rusty."

"This weekend?" Ohtori sounded a bit surprised, but pleased. "Um, just a second..." There was a soft sound, as if he'd covered the phone with his hand, and then Shishido heard his muffled voice asking someone else, "Do we have anything planned this weekend?"

He missed the rock on his next kick, and nearly overbalanced himself as well. Pausing on the sidewalk, he scowled at the innocent rock, his grin vanished as quickly as it came. Since when did Ohtori have to check with anyone about his weekend plans? His family were pretty big on 'family time', sure, but not _that_ big on it. But who else would Ohtori need to check with?

"Shishido-san?" Ohtori was back, and Shishido wrenched his mind back on track. "Saturday's not really any good, Kazuya reminded me we're supposed to be going to a concert Sakaki-sensei recommended to us. Is Sunday okay?"

Amano again? Shishido didn't realize he was grinding his teeth until his jaw started to ache faintly. The pianist was there with Ohtori, at _this_ hour? "Sunday's fine," he forced himself to say casually. Honestly, what was his problem? It was good to know Ohtori had other friends. He was a friendly guy, who thrived on affection from the people he cared about. Of course he had other close friends besides Shishido. "You guys must be practicing pretty hard for that piece, huh? You're usually doing homework by now, not music."

"Oh, we are doing homework," Ohtori assured him. "We're in the same class, so it just seemed easier to bring my books to his place so we could study after we practiced." There was the sound of laughter in the background, and a muffled voice saying something Shishido couldn't make out. "No, I'm almost done," Ohtori assured the person on his end, who could only be Amano. "I should go, Shishido-san, it's late and we need to get these math problems done. I'll meet you Sunday at the courts by your place? One o'clock?"

Shishido had been planning to suggest they get together early, play all morning and go out for lunch together, and then maybe just hang out and catch up for the afternoon. A bit nonplussed, he tried not to grind his teeth again. "Yeah, sure, sounds good," he said. "I'll see you then."

"Okay, see you then!" Ohtori agreed. And then Shishido was listening to the beeping of the dial tone. He blinked, bringing the phone down to stare at it, wondering if the signal had cut off somehow. It showed five bars, full signal, and he wouldn't have gotten a dial tone anyway if that had happened. But... had Ohtori just hung up on him? _Again?_

The discussion had been more or less over, he had to acknowledge as he stabbed the button to end the call. It was just... Ohtori was never so abrupt about ending phone calls. He was too polite, for one thing, and for another, their conversations had always tended to drag out long after they probably should have hung up. Somehow one or the other of them always seemed to come up with something more to say, even if it was mostly inconsequential.

Shaking his head, he forced himself to start walking again. He was reading too much into all this. So what if Ohtori was over at that kid's place? Like he'd said, it made more sense for him to study there, and if Amano was a pianist, presumably they needed to be at his place because he had a piano. They didn't tend to be as portable as violins.

And so what if Ohtori called Amano by given name, even though he'd persisted in calling his partner 'Shishido-san' no matter _how_ many times Shishido said it was okay for him to call him Ryou? Ohtori had always been polite, and it would naturally be harder for him to call a senpai by given name than it would be for a classmate. He and Hiyoshi just weren't close enough for that kind of relationship, and Shishido had never seen Ohtori much around other juniors. For all he knew, the younger boy called _all_ his classmates by given name.

Scowling, he went to kick the rock again, and realized he'd left it behind. Of course Ohtori had ended the call quickly; it would have been rude of him to draw the conversation out when he was a guest in the other boy's house. He'd probably been over there on Sunday the last time he'd called, too, which explained why he'd ended that conversation quickly as well.

Somehow, _that_ thought made Shishido _more_ upset, not less. Snarling, he found another rock and kicked it much harder than he had the other one. It made a satisfying smack against a lamppost, and fragmented into several pieces. What the hell was his problem, anyway? Why was this even bothering him so much? Ohtori had agreed to play with him on Sunday, and that was the important thing, right?

Before he quite realized what he was doing, he had his phone on again and had hit the second speed dial button. This one was picked up much more quickly, by an equally familiar but deeper voice. "Did you forget something, Shishido?"

"Why does everyone know it's me?" Shishido demanded, momentarily sidetracked. "Do you have me set up with a different ring too?"

"Of course I do," Atobe sounded amused. "Everyone on my speed dial has their own ring, it makes things so much simpler. I don't have to waste time looking at the display to decide if I want to answer the call or not. Don't you?"

Disgruntled, Shishido rolled his eyes. "No, because I'm not an organizational freak like you and Choutarou, apparently. I just always answer my phone!"

"Ah, so you spoke to Ohtori?" Atobe sounded oddly pleased. "Good. Did you get things sorted out with him?"

"Yeah," Shishido replied, though he was scowling again. Had he? Wasn't that why he was calling Atobe, to get his friend's perspective on the whole mess? "I guess so. We're gonna go play next Sunday."

"So why are you calling me?" Atobe wanted to know. "Did you want Jirou and I to come along so you'll have someone worth playing?"

That wasn't a half bad idea. Unless they really lucked out, the competition at the street courts didn't tend to really be worth the effort. Though Shishido felt oddly like... like he didn't want to _share_ Ohtori with anyone. He'd had enough trouble getting the younger boy away from this friend of his, he didn't want his partner's attention divided any further.

 

Except that was ridiculous, because having Atobe and Jirou around wouldn't be dividing Ohtori's attention, it would just give them someone worth playing. "If you can," Shishido agreed. "Can you ask Jirou later? I'm sure he's asleep by now, no point in waking him up."

"I'll do that," Atobe agreed, sounding amused. "Was there anything else?"

Shishido hesitated. What could he say? 'Choutarou's got a new friend, and he's ignoring me?' It sounded so bloody childish, like a five-year-old who's been told he must share his favourite toy and is sulking as a result. He'd sort of wanted Atobe's insight into the whole matter, since his friend was good at getting to the root of things like that. Only Shishido was afraid the 'root' of the matter would end up being Atobe laughing at _him_ for this sudden, ridiculous insecurity.

"No, that was all," he said, mouth twisting on the words. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

This time when he hung up his phone, he wasn't upset or angry. Just feeling oddly weighted down, as if something was pressing hard on his chest and making it difficult to breathe. _I'm being stupid,_ he chided himself harshly. _Of course he's got other friends now. The only reason he spent all his time with me before is because we were in the middle of the tournaments, and every minute counted. Everything'll be fine on Sunday._


	3. Chapter 3

Jirou's words about Ohtori thinking Shishido didn't have time for him had been eating at him all week, so Shishido made it a point to show up at the courts well in advance of the arranged time. Ohtori almost always beat him to any meeting they'd agreed upon, he was just more organized than Shishido that way. The senior hoped that by arriving early for once, he would be showing his partner that he was in no way too busy for the other boy.

He warmed up by playing a couple of the kids who were always hanging around the street courts. They were no match for him, even two on one, so he found his mind once again turning to the whole issue with Ohtori.

After a lot of thought, he'd finally acknowledged that Atobe might just have been right about their friendship suffering from neglect. And even if that _was_ just as much Ohtori's fault as his, that didn't mean Shishido couldn't be the one to put a stop to it.

So when Ohtori appeared with racquet bag in hand, a good ten minutes before one o'clock, he was obviously surprised to see his partner already there and playing. "Shishido-san!" he called, just after Shishido had spotted him approaching. "You're early!"

"Be right with you, Choutarou," Shishido called, and grinned at the two freshmen facing him across the net. "Last shot, guys, then I've got a game to play. Try and get it past me."

It was no contest, and after a short rally he lobbed the ball over both their heads and landed it solidly on the line. "Not bad, but you're a hundred years too early to beat me!" he laughed at the boys. "Keep practicing."

"You're good at motivating people to play better, when you're not busy trying to prove how far above them you are," Ohtori teased him gently as he walked off the courts. "How come you beat me here?" Despite the cool fall weather, the younger boy was already in his shorts and jersey, his lucky silver cross glinting at his throat. Shishido felt lighter just at the sight of him.

"I feel like I've hardly seen you lately," Shishido shrugged, slinging his racquet over his shoulder. Ohtori blinked at him, and he elaborated, "I just wanted to get as much out of today as I could, that's all. Sorry I've been so busy lately."

That made Ohtori's soft smile appear again, making Shishido feel oddly warmer despite the way the wind was chilling the sweat on his skin. "It's okay, Shishido-san," Ohtori asserted softly. "I know being in third year means most of your time is eaten up with studying. I don't mind, really."

Despite his words, Shishido was sure he saw some subtle form of tension leave Ohtori's shoulders as he spoke. Or maybe 'hurt' was a better word for it. _Had_ Ohtori been feeling neglected by Shishido? The older boy frowned slightly. Well, why the hell _hadn't_ the big idiot just called him, then?

Whatever, it didn't really matter now. Ohtori seemed to have forgiven him for whatever slight he'd unintentionally made. Shishido would just have to be careful not to do it again. He'd forgotten how sensitive his partner could be, that was all.

"Let's warm up," Shishido suggested, after grabbing a quick drink from his water bottle. "I want to see if I can still return that damn serve of yours. Can't let myself get slow, after all."

Something glittered deep in Ohtori's eyes: a familiar combination of amusement and competitive spirit. "Better watch out," the junior warned as he fished his racquet and a can of balls out of his bag. "My scud serve has only gotten faster. And I _have_ been practicing, unlike certain lazy senpai I could mention."

Shishido laughed, the familiar banter making his steps feel light as he ran for the baseline on the far side. "Bring it on!" he called over the net. "Give it your best shot, I'm not afraid of your serve anymore."

Brave words, but the truth was he still flinched slightly any time he had to face that killer serve. His body remembered the pain of impact, even though he was fast enough now to be able to catch the ball with his racquet instead of his face. And Ohtori hadn't lied; Shishido could detect a noticeable increase in the speed of the serve as it slammed over the net towards him.

He was more out of practice than he'd thought; he barely managed to catch the first serve on his racquet, and missed the sweet spot by a good inch or two. Ohtori took that point easily, and the next one. By the third serve, however, Shishido was starting to get his stride back, and he returned it cleanly and ended up taking the point.

After that, it was as if it had been only days since their last match instead of weeks. They talked over the net, trading teasing threats and insults, all the while laughing in a way Shishido never did with anyone else. It felt a bit like coming home, and Shishido savoured the sensation. He could tell Ohtori was reveling in it as well, as the younger boy's smile grew wider and his movements looser as they continued to play.

The score was 4-2 in Ohtori's favour, and he'd just blasted a scud serve across the net that Shishido was _sure_ had left scorch marks on his strings when he returned it, when a familiar voice piped up from the direction of the stairs down to street level. " _Whoa,_ Atobe! Did you _see_ that! Ohtori-kun, how _fast_ was that, have you broken two hundred yet?" Jirou scampered up like the human bouncy-ball he was when awake and excited, hopping from foot to foot at the side of the court. "I want to play! C'mon, Ohtori, let me try to return it!"

"Jirou-san?" Ohtori let Shishido's return go by him, standing and staring at their friend and former teammate. "What are you doing here? And Atobe-san?" he added, even more confused as Atobe appeared at the top of the stairs as well.

"What do you mean?" Jirou stopped hopping, and tilted his head curiously at the younger boy. "Shishido invited us. I'm really glad, it's been way too long since we played!"

"He did?" Ohtori cast a look at Shishido that was not quite a frown, but his eyes were dark with some unreadable emotion. The expression made Shishido feel like he'd swallowed a lead weight somewhere along the way. "Oh, I... that's great, Jirou-san, Atobe-san, I've missed playing with you both as well."

Except for the initial hesitation, which Shishido wasn't even sure anyone else had caught, Ohtori's words were genuine enough. He definitely seemed happy to see his former teammates, laughing as Jirou raced to Shishido's side of the net in anticipation of returning Ohtori's infamous scud serve. Yet somehow Shishido felt as if he'd made some kind of major blunder along the way, and he didn't know what it was.

It took him a few minutes, as he and Atobe warmed up together on another court while Ohtori fired serves at an excited Jirou, but he finally realized why he felt that his partner was suddenly upset with him. As soon as he'd heard that Jirou and Atobe had been invited by Shishido, he'd... just stopped looking at him. Or rather, stopped meeting Shishido's eyes, even when he _was_ looking right at him.

It was understated, not nearly as obvious as the way he'd brushed Shishido off the week before in the auditorium, or those two times on the phone. But it was still there, a subtle snub that rubbed Shishido entirely the wrong way. _What the fuck is going on?_ he wondered, his attention more on what Ohtori and Jirou were doing than his own rally with Atobe.

He only realized what a mistake his inattention was when a smashed ball from Atobe caught the end of his racquet, sending it flying out of his hand as the other senior wound up for the second half of his 'Hametsu e no Rondo'. "That was entirely too easy," Atobe declared, even as he hit the ball the second time to send it whizzing past Shishido for the point. As his friend landed, Shishido just shook his head. "You're not paying attention in the least, Shishido. What's going on?"

"Fuck if I know," Shishido muttered, stalking over to retrieve his racquet. Honestly, he hadn't fallen for Atobe's signature move in a long time. Hell, he was one of the people Atobe had developed the bloody thing on, he ought to know the signs of it well enough to avoid it by now! He really hadn't been paying attention. "Everything was going just fine, and then he froze up on me."

"Aan?" Atobe glanced back and forth between Shishido and his partner on the other court, raising his fingers to the side of his face briefly as he studied them. Shishido grunted and turned his back on his former captain. He _hated_ it when Atobe used his 'Insight' on him; the other boy really was uncannily good at seeing past the surface to the truths you'd rather remained hidden. "Ah, I see," Atobe said after a moment. "You didn't tell him we'd be coming, did you?"

"I haven't even talked to him since I invited him to play in the first place," Shishido snapped back, though he kept his voice low enough not to reach their other two friends. "But what the hell difference does it make? It's not the first time you guys've joined us for a practice match. It's a lot more interesting to play you than the pretenders that hang around here most weekends."

"If it weren't that I know you so well, I'd suspect you of being purposely dense," Atobe retorted, shaking his head as he dropped his hand away from his face again. "How do you manage to make every possible wrong move if you don't know what they _are_?"

"What the hell are you on about now?" Shishido demanded, unsettled. Wrong move for what? They weren't talking about tennis, he was sure of that much. What the hell was Atobe accusing him of now?

"Nothing," his friend sighed, and clapped him briefly on the shoulder. "Let's rejoin them, shall we, and see what we can salvage of the situation."

"Atobe!" Jirou had looked over, and realized that Shishido and Atobe weren't playing any more. "Atobe, can we play a match now? Ohtori's serve has gotten even faster, did you see?" He laughed in delight. "I can't return it yet. Let's play doubles!"

Trust Jirou to be so excited about a tennis move he hadn't managed to beat yet. Well, Shishido supposed he could hardly blame him. Tennis was boring more often than not for Jirou; even at his best in singles, Shishido hadn't been able to defeat his friend except on rare occasions. Only Atobe had ever been able to consistently beat Jirou, so small wonder the singles two player half slept through most of his matches.

That was in singles, though. Doubles was another matter entirely. Shishido grinned as he moved to join Ohtori on the other side of the court. Not even Atobe and Jirou could beat Shishido and Ohtori in combination. They'd been Hyoutei's doubles one pair for a very good reason. The best thing that had ever happened to Shishido had been Sakaki assigning him to play with Ohtori; he'd never have known that his real place in tennis was in doubles, otherwise.

"Australian formation?" he murmured as he approached the taller boy. "Or a double net play? It's been a while since we faced them."

"Jirou-san is too good at net play," Ohtori replied, frowning in concentration. He still wasn't meeting Shishido's eyes, but that could have been as much because he was studying their opponents across the net as anything else. He always got more serious and focused just before a game, as Shishido knew from experience. "And we don't want to give Atobe-san any opportunities to use his Rondo. Let's stick with Australian."

"Right." Shishido clapped Ohtori on the shoulder and brushed his hand over the lucky necklace the boy wore, as he always did right before they played. It had started out as a way of grounding himself, a physical reminder that he wasn't going to be alone on the courts and couldn't play like he was, but it had turned into just a simple sort of 'got your back' assurance between them.

He waited for Ohtori to reach out and flick the brim of his cap, the second half of their ritual; 'remember why you're here', which had become 'together we can do the impossible'. He didn't know quite when or how the changes in meanings had happened, or even how he was so sure of what the gestures meant now, since they'd certainly never said anything about it aloud. With synchronization as strong as theirs had become, maybe they just didn't _need_ to say the words for them to be understood.

The shock when Ohtori simply nodded and walked away, therefore, was almost palpable. Shishido stood staring after his partner as the younger boy took his place at the baseline. He was totally floored, half certain he'd just somehow missed the feel of that strong hand tugging at his cap. "Are we going to play or not?" Atobe called across the net, raising an amused eyebrow at Shishido. Jirou was also giving him a curious look, and Ohtori...

Ohtori still wasn't looking at him, his gaze focused on the ground at his feet as he bounced the ball a couple of times in preparation for serving.

Flustered, Shishido scrambled to take his place up at the net, trying to convince himself it didn't mean anything. It was just a stupid little superstitious habit, it wasn't like it _actually_ had any bearing on their game. Maybe Ohtori thought they'd grown past the need for the reminders, or maybe it'd been long enough since they'd played that the younger boy had forgotten about it. Hells, maybe it just hadn't ever meant what Shishido thought it had, and the 'ritual' had all been in his head anyway.

The last thought stuck in his throat and made it oddly hard to breathe as the first scud serve screamed by him onto Atobe's side of the court. He gripped his racquet a little tighter to remind himself to focus, and threw himself into the first rally.

It was immediately obvious that Shishido and Ohtori were off their game today. Shishido had kind of been assuming that they would just slide right back together again as if they'd never stopped playing, but obviously the month apart had more of an effect than he'd thought it would. It wasn't as bad as it had been when they'd first started practicing as a pair, because Shishido had learned a lot about the differences between singles play and doubles. But it was as if they were both good doubles players who'd been unexpectedly assigned an unfamiliar partner; they weren't reading each other at all.

After the third time they'd both moved the same way and left half the court wide open for Atobe and Jirou to score a point, Shishido approached his partner as they moved around the net for the change court. "What the hell, Choutarou?" he demanded, staring at his partner. "What's with us today?"

"Lack of practice, I expect," Ohtori replied, a bit more tartly than Shishido would have expected. He reeled back slightly, stung by the implied rebuke in the words. "Maybe we should forget about the fancy formations and just stick with the basics until we can predict each other a little better again."

"Yeah, I guess so," Shishido agreed slowly. Ohtori _still_ wasn't meeting his eyes, so he couldn't read the emotions behind his partner's words. Ohtori was very good at keeping a neutral expression, but his eyes always gave him away. "Choutarou, are you angry with me?" he blurted out, still trying to figure out _why_ his partner was so upset.

"Of course not, Shishido-san." Was it his imagination, or were the words a little too stiff? "Come on, let's play, it's their serve."

The rest of the game was no less a mess than the first part had been, though at least once they stopped using the more advanced formations the holes in their defence stopped being quite so large. They were still out of synch, with none of the easy co-operation and anticipation that had become their signature. For the first time since they'd felt confident enough in their combination to play another pair in a match, they lost the set. It was still close, 7-5 for Atobe and Jirou, but it was a _loss_. Shishido had forgotten how bad it felt to lose, even in a non-important game like this one.

"That was horrible," Atobe declared as they all headed for their water bottles after Jirou took the last point. "If you two expect to have any hope of playing together again in tournaments, you'd better start practicing together more often again. Your combination has clearly suffered for your lack of attention to it."

They both murmured abashed agreement to that. Shishido sighed, and mopped the worst of the sweat out of his hair with his towel. Atobe was right, they'd just have to practice more often. They had lots of time before the tennis season officially started again to get their game back in shape. Not to mention their friendship, which had clearly gone off track somewhere along the line.

Before he could speak up to suggest another practice date to Ohtori, an unfamiliar voice piped up from outside the fenced courts, "I thought you said you were good at this game, Choutarou. I may not know anything about tennis, but even I could tell that was awful."

Shishido was facing the wrong way to see the speaker, but he certainly saw the way Ohtori's glum expression suddenly lightened with a gleaming smile. He knew who it had to be even before his partner exclaimed happily, "Kazuya! What are you doing here?"

Wondering why the sight of that smile left such a bad taste in his mouth, Shishido turned. Sure enough, the long-haired pianist was leaning up against the fence, a teasing light in his eyes as he looked at Ohtori. "I wanted to see this game you keep raving so much about," Amano replied, smiling slightly. He seemed like a naturally reserved person, but his genuine affection for Shishido's partner was obvious.

"Who's this, Ohtori-kun?" Jirou asked curiously, looking at the pianist with half-lidded eyes. Now that the adrenalin rush of the game was passing, the former singles player was clearly starting to get sleepy again.

"Ah..." Embarrassed at his lack of manners, Ohtori laughed softly. "Kazuya, this is Atobe Keigo, our captain last year; Akutagawa Jirou, former singles two; and my doubles partner Shishido Ryou. Everyone, this is Amano Kazuya, the pianist for the Hyoutei orchestra. He transferred in from Midoriyama this term, he's really talented. Sakaki-sensei wrote the music we're working on now to showcase him."

"Us, you mean," Amano corrected him, the smile quirking his lips increasing slightly. "Don't be so modest, Choutarou. If I hadn't come along, you'd probably have a solo instead of a duet." He tilted his head in a bow towards the rest of them. "It's good to finally meet some of the people Choutarou talks about so much."

A transfer student? Shishido was startled enough that he almost forgot to murmur a polite greeting in return. Well, that explained why he'd never heard Ohtori mention the kid before. But if he'd only started at Hyoutei this term, how the hell had he gotten so close to Ohtori that the reserved and eternally polite junior was already calling him by given name?

"Ohtori is a Hyoutei Regular, of course he's talented at whatever he puts his mind to," Atobe said loftily, inclining his head in greeting to the junior. "I'm sure you'll both be stunning at the concert this year. We'll have to make a point to attend it."

"I'm not a Regular any more, Atobe-san," Ohtori pointed out with a laugh. "I quit the team, didn't you hear? But it _will_ be a good concert, you should all come."

"Speaking of being good," Amano flicked a wry glance at Ohtori. "You want to go grab some dinner and then come over to my place? If we don't get that passage right by tomorrow morning, Sakaki-sensei is going to string us both up."

"No, he'll just forget which practice he's at and start assigning laps," Ohtori chuckled as the bottom dropped out of Shishido's stomach. "Sure, that sounds good. Let me just get my stuff." Turning, the tall junior smiled at the three seniors. "Thanks for coming out to play with me, guys. We should definitely do this regularly, or we'll all end up losing our edge."

Numb, Shishido watched as Ohtori hastily gathered everything into his racquet bag. To protest now that he'd been planning to treat Ohtori to dinner as an apology of sorts for neglecting him seemed, well, kind of childish. If Ohtori had work to do, of course he had to go, not goof around with his former senpai. And why should it matter that Ohtori didn't seem the least bit regretful that he couldn't stick around longer? They didn't _always_ go out together after a game. There'd be plenty of time to hang out once this stupid concert was out of the way, right?

He didn't realize he was still standing there like an idiot as Ohtori walked to the door of the fence and out to join his friend, until a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and startled him. Jerking away from the unexpected touch, Shishido found Atobe looking at him with an expression of amused disgust. Behind him Jirou looked sleepily sympathetic - sympathetic to _what_ , Shishido wasn't sure.

"Come on, Ryou," Atobe sighed, squeezing his shoulder briefly before releasing him to start gathering his own things. "I'll take you both to dinner. Maybe then you'll stop looking like you just saw the sun set in the wrong direction."


	4. Chapter 4

The look on Atobe's face as the senior regarded the club sandwich in front of him with disdain was almost enough to break Shishido out of his funk. He'd expected Atobe to drag them both to some upscale cafe or restaurant, but instead their former captain had actually lowered himself enough to bring them to Shishido's favourite restaurant, a little diner not far from his house that served the best cheese sandwiches he'd ever had.

That the hole-in-the-wall dive didn't even come _close_ to Atobe's exacting standards went without saying, and Jirou had been snickering at the look on their wealthy friend's face since they'd ordered. Shishido, on the other hand, was mostly just touched by the unexpected gesture. Atobe was so bloody self-centered most of the time; it was these rare moments when he went out of his way for a friend that reminded Shishido of just why he was still so close to the arrogant ass.

Despite the fact that Atobe had lowered himself enough to treat Shishido to his favourite, the dash specialist was only picking at his own sandwich. The edges of the bread were all frayed and tattered, but none of it has actually made its way into his mouth yet. He couldn't get his mind off the utter disaster the afternoon had turned into, and it was eating at him from the inside out.

"What'd I do wrong?" he finally blurted out, interrupting Atobe's irritated contemplation of his food. The other boy blinked and raised an eyebrow at him, and Shishido elaborated. "You said before that I was doing everything wrong. What'd I _do_? Why'm I the only one who can't seem to figure out what Choutarou's problem is? And _don't_ just sit there and trade significant looks with each other," he added, getting mad as his two friends did just that. "You keep _doing_ that. What the fuck, guys? Who handed out the rulebook and why didn't I get a copy?"

"You really need to sort this out with Ohtori directly, Shishido," Atobe said, shaking his head. "After all, Jirou and I can't do more than hypothesize, and we _could_ be mistaken." His tone said that he doubted it, but wasn't willing to divulge more than that. Shishido growled in frustration and turned to Jirou.

His other friend blinked at him sleepily. "Atobe's right, Shishido," the smaller boy said, shrugging. "We're not the ones you need to be asking. Ohtori-kun is."

"If I could fucking well pin him down for ten minutes, I would!" Shishido snarled, beyond frustrated with the whole damn situation. "He won't _talk_ to me, damn it! It seemed like things were finally started to get back to normal just before you guys showed up today, but then he froze up on me again." He bit his lip, trying to hide just how much the whole thing bothered him. "I mean, what the hell? One minute he's laughing and joking with me and it feels like we never stopped playing, and the next he won't even look at me!"

"You asked for our opinion, and we've given it to you," Atobe informed him, somewhat imperious but not entirely without sympathy. "Honestly, Shishido," he added, shaking his head, "No friendship is perfect, or without problems. You and Ohtori have had it far too easy, at least as far as your relationship with each other went. So, now you've hit your first major problem. Does he mean so little to you that you're going to give up without a fight?"

Shishido glared at him, unable to even put his fury at the very idea into words. Give up? _Him?_ He didn't even know the meaning of the words. He'd clawed his way back onto the Regulars after being dropped, there was no way in hell he was going to let a stupid fight with his best friend defeat him.

Even if he didn't have the first clue what the fuck they were fighting _about_.

"Remember your first big fight with Atobe?" Jirou put in suddenly, grinning at them both. "I thought you guys were going to kill each other. Your mom was _so_ mad at you for coming home with a black eye and bloody nose, remember Shishido?"

"Yeah," Shishido had to snort at the memory, amused despite himself. "I gave as good as I got, though... I seem to recall Atobe lisping past a split lip for a week." He smirked at their former captain, who rolled his eyes.

"I thought you were asleep during that fight?" Atobe asked Jirou. "You certainly never said anything about it at the time. I don't even recall, what were we fighting over?"

"You called Shishido's family 'peasants'," Jirou supplied promptly. "And he called you a spoiled little rich brat. I can't remember who said what first, though, and I don't know exactly what started it. I was half asleep, I only woke up when you started yelling at each other. But I didn't want to get involved."

"Probably smart," Shishido had to acknowledge. Gods, he hadn't thought about those days in _forever_. They'd been, what... six, seven years old? There'd never been a more mismatched trio of friends, but despite the frequent spats between him and Atobe, they'd remained close over the years. "I remember my first fight with _you_ , too, Jirou," he added with a grin. "I was so mad that I couldn't get you to wake up for a match with me, that I dumped cold water over you the next time I found you asleep. You didn't speak to me for days."

"You ruined my favourite pillow!" Jirou complained, but he was laughing too. Talking about these memories was slowly making the knot in Shishido's stomach dissolve. Atobe was right - no friendship lasted forever without running into problems. The important part was getting past the spats, just like he had with Atobe and Jirou. He could do it with Ohtori, too, and their friendship would be that much stronger for it.

"I remember that," Atobe was smiling nostalgically as well. "You kept making me repeat everything Shishido said to you as if you couldn't hear it, and you'd whisper at me so I'd have to relay your words to him. Finally I started mis-repeating things on purpose, just to force you to speak to him directly."

Jirou gave Atobe an exaggerated sleepy pout, and Shishido laughed at them both. When he glanced down at his plate, he was surprised to realize he was halfway through the sandwich, and feeling hungry again. "Thanks, guys," he said, flushing slightly with embarrassment.

"Your determination to never give up has served you well in the past, Ryou," Atobe told him with a hint of a smirk, "but the stubbornness that accompanies the determination can also be your downfall."

"Sometimes you just need us to push you out of the rut your thinking is stuck in," Jirou said with a yawn and a grin. "What're friends for?"

That made Shishido laugh again. Jirou had a way of cutting straight to the heart of things, and somehow he was able to say things that would get Shishido mad if it had come from anyone else. "All right, so now that I'm not stuck in a rut any more... what the fuck do I _do_? I can't figure out what's going through his head if I can't get him to talk to me, and I don't have anybody to start mis-repeating things to make him talk to me."

"You said you've tried calling him," Atobe gave up poking at his own dinner and leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the back of it. "Have you tried cornering him somewhere? After his music practice, perhaps?"

The growl that escaped Shishido surprised even him, a little. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the memory. "That's what started this whole mess. I finally went looking for him after Hiyoshi told me he'd quit the team, and I... what?" Atobe had made an exasperated noise, and Jirou had smacked his forehead before slumping over to rest his head on his arms on the table.

"The first time you went looking for him was because he'd quit the team?" Atobe shook his head, rolling his eyes at Shishido. "Honestly. Never mind, keep going. Why couldn't you talk to him at the practice? For that matter, why are you having trouble talking to him on the phone?"

"Because I can't get him away from bloody Amano, that's why," Shishido snarled, eyes narrowing at the memory. "They're always together, doing homework or practicing for that damn concert. Everywhere he goes, the fucking pianist is right behind him!" he realized his voice was rising when other people in the diner started turning to look at him, and slumped back in his seat with another growl.

Was it possible to hate someone at first sight? There was just something about Amano that put Shishido's hackles up, and he didn't like the fact that Ohtori was spending so much time with the other junior. And he'd had the oddest feeling, though Amano certainly hadn't said or done anything to indicate so, that the pianist didn't much like Shishido either.

"Like today," he continued, lowering his voice but gesturing emphatically as he warmed to the topic. "I wanted to take him out for dinner, you know, catch up with him. Spend some time with just the two of us, like we used to. I didn't really realize it because I've been so busy, but now that I've noticed it, I _miss_ him, damn it." Admitting that was hard, it sounded so stupidly sappy... after all, it had only been a month, right? Shishido just didn't _do_ sappy. Not even in front of Atobe and Jirou.

Actually, maybe _especially_ not in front of his two closest friends. They'd probably take the opportunity to tease him about it for _months_.

"Did you tell Ohtori-kun you were planning to do that?" Jirou asked, his words somewhat muffled by the fact that only his sleepy eyes and bright mop of hair were visible above his arms. "Or that you missed him?"

"Well, no, I..." Why did that suddenly make him feel kinda guilty? "I didn't _say_ anything. We just always went out after practice, why would this have been any different? I mean, hell, not like I make specific plans like that with you guys, do I?"

"Next time, I suggest planning it out with him ahead of time," Atobe said dryly. "And _not_ inviting us to play with you. If I'd realized how seriously wrong things were going between the two of you, I'd never have agreed to come. Really, Shishido, sometimes you don't have the social skills the gods gave a weasel."

"Rabid weasel," was Jirou's snickering addition, which made Shishido pick up his water glass and make as if he was about to toss the contents onto his sleepy friend.

"With my luck, next time I ask him to play he'll invite bloody Amano to come watch again," Shishido muttered sourly as he set the glass down again. "And it's not like I can say 'no, don't bring your damn friend', now can I?"

"Invite him to your birthday party!" Jirou sat up abruptly, beaming like he'd just offered the solution to all of Shishido's problems. "It's your party, and you don't know Amano, so it'd be rude of Ohtori-kun to bring him along."

Actually, that would have been a good idea, except... "I'm not having a party, I hate birthdays, you know that," he reminded his stupidly grinning friend. "I haven't had a birthday party since I was ten and finally put my foot down with my parents. They're a pain in the ass." He _hated_ having people fussing over him and making a big deal of him like that... it was one thing to have people admiring him for, say, his skill at tennis, but it was just dumb for people to get so excited over the day someone happened to be born.

"Too much of a pain in the ass to be worth a chance to talk to Ohtori away from his new friend?" Atobe asked, arching a brow at him. Shishido scowled. Well, when he put it like _that_...

"I guess it's not such a bad idea," he conceded grudgingly. "Hell, my birthday is next _week_ , though! I don't have time to put together a party. And you are _not_ organizing it," he cut off the suggestion Atobe was obviously about to make with a shudder. "Fuck it. If it's just you guys and Choutarou, that's not such a big deal to organize."

"Invite the rest of the team," Jirou promptly interjected. "Or else it'll be just like today. But if you keep it to the team, then he _definitely_ won't bring Amano."

"All right," Shishido agreed, though he wasn't sure what difference having the others there would make. And it would be harder to get Ohtori alone with that many people around, wouldn't it? But following his own instincts hadn't gotten him anywhere except apparently into more hot water, so he'd take his friends' suggestions for now. "We can watch a movie, or something."

From there the conversation turned to ideas for things they could all do and still keep it low key, and then on to other, unrelated topics like school and the game they'd played today. By the time they parted ways at the exit of the diner, Shishido was feeling a whole lot better about everything. He headed towards his house, wandering along the commercial district and just looking in the windows, his steps lighter than they had been in days.

A flash of dark silver reflected in a window caught his eyes, and he turned automatically to search for the source, even as he laughed at himself. Silver didn't always equal 'Ohtori', but somehow catching a glimpse of that particular colour always had him looking around for his partner.

He was more than a little surprised when his search ended across the street, where a tall silver-haired boy and a smaller dark-haired one were walking along the sidewalk. His heart skipped a beat, oddly, and he swallowed. It _was_ Ohtori, with Amano close at his side. Their heads were tilted towards each other, and Ohtori was once again laughing at something his friend had said.

Shouldn't they have been back at Amano's, practicing? Well, they had said they were going to grab dinner, and this _was_ the area closest to those courts that had half-decent restaurants. Maybe they'd just lingered over their food talking, like he had with Atobe and Jirou. No big deal, right?

Ohtori reached out and flicked back a strand of dark green hair that had fallen over Amano's face, and Shishido's heart spasmed again. How many times had Ohtori done that to him, during those nightly practices back before he'd cut his hair, before he'd won his spot as the junior's partner? It would have taken torture to get him to admit it, but one of the things Shishido missed most about his long hair was the way Ohtori's nimble musician's fingers would slide briefly through the locks, pushing it away from his sweat-streaked face.

He realized he was growling under his breath again, and forced himself to stop. It wasn't as if he had some kind of monopoly on Ohtori's touches. His partner was a friendly, affectionate guy, and hell, he'd seen him touching Amano like that before, at the orchestra practice.

Though come to think of it, the sight of it had hit him pretty hard then, too.

The breath seemed to freeze in his lungs for a long moment as he realized something else - Ohtori _hadn't_ touched him today. At all. It wasn't just the fact that he hadn't completed their usual pre-game ritual, he hadn't so much as brushed against Shishido in passing. What happened to the casual hand on his shoulder, the brief touch at his wrist, to get his attention or maybe just for the reassurance of the tactile contact? Sometimes it had seemed like Ohtori couldn't go five minutes without touching him, and he'd certainly never gone an entire match without doing it.

Without him even being conscious of having made a decision, his feet were carrying him forward over the low rail separating the foot traffic from the cars. The streets in this area were busy, but not so much that a fast person couldn't dart through the traffic to the other side of the street if he was careful. "Hey, Choutarou!" he called over the sound of the irritated honking from the drivers behind him.

Obviously surprised, his partner turned around. "Shishido-san! You shouldn't run across the street like that, you could get hurt!"

Amano just regarded him quietly, with a reserved expression. Perhaps it was just politeness that kept him from interjecting in a conversation between his friend and a person he didn't know well, but Shishido once again got the sense that Amano didn't like him much. Maybe it was the closed look in his pale eyes - they were silver, he realized incongruously, and they matched Ohtori's hair almost exactly. Why did even _that_ bother him?

"Sorry, Choutarou, I thought I'd lose you if I waited for the crosswalk," Shishido said unrepentantly, firmly turning his thoughts away from the pianist and onto his partner where they belonged. "I was going to call you, but I saw you and figured I'd just ask. I, uh, forgot at the game today... you're coming to my birthday party, right?"

Well, that had come out sounding a bit more pleading than he'd have liked. Shishido cleared his throat and took a casual pose, one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding his racquet bag strap over his shoulder.

Ohtori looked surprised. "Birthday party?" he repeated, blinking in confusion. "But Shishido-san, I thought you said you hated birthday parties and never had them?"

Oops, he'd forgotten he'd told his partner that. He shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, well... if I didn't have one myself, I have a sneaking suspicion Atobe was going to do something. He's into that whole event planning kick this year, you know."

That surprised a genuine snicker out of his partner. Ohtori covered his mouth politely, but his brown eyes were dancing over his hand. "No, that wouldn't do at _all_ ," the junior murmured when he'd recovered. "Knowing him, he'd probably decide he needed to top what he did for Kabaji's birthday."

"Gods, don't remind me," Shishido groaned, and then they were both laughing. Perhaps it was petty of him, but the confused look on Amano's face at the joke he was excluded from made Shishido feel a bit better. "Yeah, so. It's just gonna be the guys from the team, not a big deal. You'll be there, right?"

"It's this Thursday, right?" Ohtori asked, tilting his head, and Shishido felt warmed by the fact that his partner had remembered the date without needing to ask. "Of course I'll come. Sakaki-sensei has us doing solo practice every day this week, but Hiyoshi and Kabaji have tennis too, so I'll just come over with them after practice is done. All right?"

"Sounds good," Shishido confirmed, glad they at least had that settled. "And we can talk then about times to meet and play, so we don't end up going so long without seeing each other again, all right?" Ohtori's eyes widened slightly, as if he was surprised by the offer, but he nodded and smiled.

"Yes, Shishido-san. We'll do that," the younger boy said, and the softness in that smile warmed Shishido right down to his toes. Geez, was he coming down with a fever or something? He'd never been so eager for the sight of Ohtori's smiles before.

Then again, he'd never had to work so hard to get them before, either. Maybe he'd been taking them for granted. "I guess you'd better get to your practicing," Shishido said magnanimously, cocking his head at the two juniors. "Nice to meet you, Amano. Good luck with the concert."

He watched them leave, and for some reason it seemed to him they were walking just a bit farther apart than they had been before he'd caught up to them. He shook his head - he was imagining things.

Some impulse made him call out, just before they were out of speaking range. "Choutarou?" When his partner turned back once more, quizzically, Shishido asked, "Why didn't you tug on my cap?"

There was a silent moment between them, and he saw Ohtori's eyes widen with shock at his words. Shock, followed by darkness and an unexpected ache so deep it left Shishido breathless. "Because," the younger boy said slowly, his voice as heavy with sorrow as his eyes were. "I'm starting to think maybe some things really are impossible."

With that he turned and was gone before Shishido could gather his thoughts enough to reply. Somehow, as he stared after the two juniors, he didn't feel at all comforted by the knowledge that he _hadn't_ been imagining the hidden meanings of their ritual.


	5. Chapter 5

The disadvantage of Ohtori arriving with the other second years, after practice, was that it meant he was one of the last to get to Shishido's house. The other seniors arrived much earlier, and of course Oshitari and Mukahi promptly set about teasing the hell out of Shishido for finally submitting to the indignity of a birthday party.

Atobe and Jirou, of course, knew the real reason for the 'party'. Shishido was just grateful that his two oldest friends were refraining from teasing him as well.

At least he'd convinced his family to clear out, after much begging and pleading and threatening on his part. His parents had taken his grandmother out for a nice dinner and a theater show, and his brother had gone over to a friend's for the night. He'd even locked the dog in his bedroom, though he felt a little guilty doing it. She was an old dog, though, and he wasn't sure she could handle the excitement of so many new people in her space. She'd be okay.

By the time the juniors finally showed up, Shishido was about ready to kill someone (preferably Mukahi) and seriously starting to wonder if this had been such a hot idea after all. Surely it wouldn't have been _that_ hard to corner Ohtori somewhere else? Somewhere a bit more _private_?

The sound of the door buzzer was like a rescue from heaven. Shishido escaped Mukahi's merciless teasing gratefully, all but bolting for the front door. His family's apartment was small, but he couldn't remember it ever feeling _tiny_ before this.

Theoretically adding three more people shouldn't have helped his vague feeling of claustrophobia, but his first glimpse of Ohtori's smile was like a breath of fresh air. His smile no longer forced, he stepped back and invited the three juniors in, accepting their murmured apologies for intruding with a nod.

"Geez, I thought you'd never get here," he muttered to his partner as the three of them kicked off their shoes and put on the house slippers provided for guests. "Remind me not to _ever_ again voluntarily put myself into a confined space with Mukahi, all right?"

Ohtori laughed softly. "Given the way the two of you were always sniping at each other, I wouldn't have thought that would be something you'd need reminding about, Shishido-san." Shishido couldn't help grinning back at him, enjoying the sound of his familiar laughter.

Though he studied the younger boy as closely as he dared, Shishido could detect no hint of that heavy weight of sorrow that had been in his partner's eyes the last time they'd spoken. Nor was Ohtori avoiding his eyes anymore, and the junior seemed relaxed and relatively happy as the four of them made their way into the living room where the rest of the former regulars were.

Maybe he'd imagined it? Or hell, maybe Ohtori had just been having a bad day for some reason. A bad _week_. Maybe the stress from the piece he was trying to learn with Amano had been getting to him, and that was all it was. Whatever the reason, Shishido was unaccountably relieved to have Ohtori smiling and talking easily to him again.

After that, the party wasn't nearly as bad. Certainly nowhere near as aggravating as Shishido had expected it to be. He'd made it clear to everyone that there were to be _no_ presents, nor anything as cheesy as a birthday cake. Instead he'd ordered half a dozen different pizzas, and from somewhere Jirou had produced a couple of the most dreadful movies Shishido had ever seen for them to sit and poke fun at. The first was one of those 'underdog sports team triumphs over all odds' movies - for tennis. The ridiculous and physically impossible moves the players used had them all howling with laughter and practically rolling on the floor.

By the time they took a break after the first movie to get snacks and chat for a bit, Shishido was almost willing to admit that maybe the party hadn't been a bad idea in and of itself. As much as Mukahi grated on his nerves and he'd never been close to most of his teammates, it _was_ good to have them all together again. Maybe they'd have to arrange to have more of these get-togethers, once a month or something. He was sure Atobe would be happy to organize something like that.

There was only one thing marring his enjoyment of the night, and it wasn't Mukahi's incessant teasing. Though he'd at first thought that things were back to normal between him and Ohtori, there was something still off about the way the younger boy was acting towards him. He'd sat on the other couch, next to Jirou and Atobe, even though there'd been plenty of room beside Shishido. The junior had spent more time catching up with Oshitari and Jirou and even Mukahi than he had speaking to his partner, though he seemed happy enough to answer if Shishido talked to him first. And not once during the night so far had Ohtori so much as brushed against him, much less touched his shoulder or ruffled his hair like he usually did.

It was driving Shishido crazy. Ohtori was being perfectly polite, even friendly, but it just wasn't _right_. Shishido escaped into the kitchen with the excuse of making popcorn, needing a few minutes to himself just to think. Staring at the microwave as the popcorn bag slowly expanded, he tried to organize his thoughts and figure out how to get Ohtori alone.

When he heard footsteps behind him on the tile, for a moment he thought maybe he'd gotten lucky. If things had been normal, he'd have taken it for granted that his partner would have followed him into the kitchen, but he hadn't known _what_ to expect with the way things were.

He knew even before he turned, though, that it wasn't Ohtori. For one thing, he'd know his partner's gait anywhere, on or off the courts. For another, there were two sets of footsteps, and one of them was sort of shuffling.

"Hey guys," he sighed as he turned to see Atobe leaning against the wall as Jirou collapsed down into one of the kitchen chairs. "Don't fall asleep, Jirou, you'll miss the zombie movie," he added to his sleepy friend.

Jirou just grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. "Not falling asleep yet," the former singles player assured him. "Atobe's been keeping me awake. And I wanted to see how things were going with you and Ohtori-kun."

Scowling at the reminder, Shishido turned back to watching the popcorn. "Everything's fine," he said shortly, crossing his arms. "Though I don't have the first clue how I'm going to get him alone. Remind me again why you guys insisted I invite everyone?"

"You don't sound as though everything is 'fine'," Atobe pointed out, raising a brow at him. "What's going on, Ryou?"

"Nothing!" Shishido insisted, tightening his arms a little. He fidgeted, digging a toe into the crack between tiles, still scowling. "It's just... does Choutarou's behaviour seem kinda _off_ to you guys?"

"He seems fine to me," Jirou said around a yawn. "He even let me put my head on his shoulder, he doesn't usually do that if he's upset at all. And he was laughing at the movie with the rest of us."

"Yeah, but..." Shishido searched helplessly for words. How could he say that it felt like Ohtori hadn't been paying enough attention to him, without sounding like a brat spoiled enough to rival Atobe? "He isn't... he hasn't been..."

"Hasn't been hanging off your every word?" Atobe suggested archly, making Jirou snicker softly. "Hasn't been taking every possible opportunity to be near you, hasn't been following you around like a lost puppy begging for affection?" Shishido bristled, at the other boy's tone as much as at his words.

"That's not what I meant!" Shishido snapped back heatedly, though he was careful to keep his voice down so those in the living room wouldn't overhear them. "He does not follow me around like a lost puppy! Hell, you make him sound like a fangirl with a crush."

"I believe 'infatuation' might be a more accurate term," Atobe replied dryly. "And while he certainly hasn't been puppy-like tonight, those _are_ the words most frequently chosen by other people to describe his behaviour towards you." He shrugged elegantly. "If I had to hazard a guess as to the source of his actions tonight, I'd say he's finally starting to get over you."

Dumbfounded, Shishido stared at him. "You're crazy," he said flatly. "Totally certifiable. Choutarou does not have a crush on me!"

"Not any more," Jirou snickered. When Shishido's gaze snapped over to him, he merely yawned and grinned. "Sorry Shishido, but it's true. He's treating you more like a friend than a crush now."

That _hadn't_ been the part that had made Shishido stare disbelievingly at Jirou. "You're both nuts," he declared. "You've obviously been reading too much shounen ai manga, or something. Choutarou and I have never been anything more than friends and partners."

"Since it would take a blind man to have missed the way he looks at you, I can only assume you're too deep in your own denial to see the obvious, even when it hits you over the head." Atobe sighed and shook his head. "And you wonder why Jirou and I refused to try to explain things to you before this. I told you that you needed to figure it out for yourself."

"So why are you telling me now?" Shishido growled, trying to fight down the uneasy feeling that was crawling up his throat. Atobe's famed 'Insight' had failed him for once; they were both totally off base. There was no way in hell Ohtori was _like that_ , let alone felt _that way_ about _him_.

"Because if he is actually getting over you, then we're not ruining his chances anymore by smacking you with a cluebat," Jirou informed him cheerfully. "I'm kinda sorry to see it, I think he'd have been good for you, but I suppose it's just as well for him to get on with his life, if you're never gonna catch on."

"Don't take our word for it," Atobe shrugged. "Watch the way he treats everyone else tonight. And by the way, your popcorn is burning."

It was indeed, Shishido realized. He spun and stabbed at the button to turn off the microwave, swearing. If his hand was shaking a bit as he did it, it was only because the very idea of Ohtori having a crush on him was so ridiculous it was laughable.

He couldn't forget his friends' words, however, and when he finally came back out into the main room with a couple of big bowls of popcorn, he found his eyes continually drawn back to his partner. Ohtori was sitting on one end of the couch, Atobe on the other, with Jirou sprawled out over both of them with his usual disregard for personal space. Ohtori had permitted the sleepy boy to use his lap as a pillow, but Shishido noted with some surprise that the younger man wasn't running his fingers idly through Jirou's hair as he (normally) had on the occasions when Shishido had put his lap to a similar purpose.

In fact, he realized as the second movie wore on, Ohtori wasn't touching _anybody_. Shishido had always assumed that the casual touches Ohtori constantly bestowed on him were just part of the way his partner interacted with people, that he was a naturally touchy person. But if that was true, then Shishido wasn't the only person Ohtori was physically avoiding now.

For a while he worried that it might be a sign that there was something really wrong. All kinds of weird scenarios played through his head: Ohtori had some weird kind of disease and didn't want to risk spreading it, or maybe the junior had suddenly developed overly sensitive skin that made it painful to touch, or maybe even something had happened to hurt the tall boy and make him skittish of touch.

The last thought made him growl so loudly that Hiyoshi eyed him and asked if he was okay, so he wrenched his mind off that train of thought. None of it was realistic anyway. Thinking back on it, he couldn't actually remember ever seeing his partner just casually touching anyone but him. And, he remembered with an odd sinking feeling in his gut, it wasn't that Ohtori was refusing to touch anyone. After all, Shishido had seen him touching Amano, and had even thought to himself that it was a great deal like the way Ohtori usually touched _him_.

Which, if he allowed himself to consider Atobe's ridiculous theory about the reason for Ohtori's behaviour towards him, would imply that...

His stomach lurched, and he quickly buried that thought before it could finish forming. If his partner was... was _like that_ , Shishido didn't want to know about it. He tried to be open-minded about that sort of thing - he _was_ a tennis player, after all, and he wasn't entirely ignorant of the fact that Oshitari and Mukahi were a little closer than was strictly necessary to their partnership - but it was a different matter entirely when it involved _him_.

Still, by the time the movie was done, he couldn't deny the conclusion that Ohtori was treating him exactly like he was treating everyone else at the party - like a good friend and former teammate, and nothing more. There was none of the sense of closeness and partnership Shishido was used to, and certainly no sign of the effortless synchronicity they'd once enjoyed.

"All right guys, time to call it a night," he announced, drawing groans and protests from the rest of the room. Truth to tell, except for his preoccupation with trying to decipher Ohtori's behaviour he'd been having a pretty damn good time himself, and was a bit reluctant to have it end. "It's a school night," he reminded all of them, suppressing a yawn. "And my parents will be home soon with my grandmother. I have to clean up before I can sleep, I promised my mom."

One by one they stood and stretched, still laughing over the zombie humour of the last movie. Shishido saw Jirou yawn and sit up, then lean over to whisper something in Ohtori's ear. The younger boy looked surprised by his senpai's words, whatever they were, but he nodded hesitantly. Sourly Shishido wondered if it had something to do with Jirou and Atobe's stupid theory.

Most of the others made at least some token effort to help straighten the room and deal with the trash, which Shishido was grateful for. Somewhat to his surprise, Ohtori lingered, making no move towards the door as he helped clean up. When he saw Shishido looking at him, he grinned sheepishly and asked, "Do you mind if I say hi to Pochi before I go? I haven't seen her in a while."

"Pochi?" Mukahi echoed before Shishido could say anything. "You have a dog named _Pochi_ , Shishido? Geez, why not just name it 'Inu' while you're at it?"

"Shut up," Shishido growled, embarrassed. This was the _other_ reason he'd shut his pet up in his room. "I was _three_ when I named her, all right? Give me a break!" He shook his head, and shot a sideways glance at his partner. Ohtori could have gone in to see his dog at any time during the night; there was no reason for him to wait until everyone else was gone. If things had been normal between them Shishido wouldn't have even thought twice about it; they'd often remained together long after everyone else had left any team gatherings, just hanging out and talking. But things weren't normal, and he wondered if it had something to do with whatever Jirou had said.

Soon the others were gone, Atobe shooting Shishido an unreadable glance before he left that was clearly some kind of warning. It might have been more effective if Shishido had any idea what the warning _was_ , but perhaps the intended effect had been somewhat distorted by the mostly-asleep Jirou the other boy had been supporting.

With the two of them working together, it didn't take them long to get the room back into shape. Ohtori worked silently, once again not meeting Shishido's eyes, and Shishido wondered what the hell he'd done to set the younger boy off _this_ time.

"What is it?" he finally asked, impatient with the pussyfooting around. Ohtori wasn't usually coy, it wasn't in his personality. It certainly wasn't in Shishido's personality to put up with it for long.

Big brown eyes blinked down at him as Ohtori straightened to his full height. "Um. Actually, I hope you're not upset... I got you a present," the younger boy confessed, the barest hint of a blush on his cheeks. "And, I really did want to see Pochi," he added with a sheepish grin.

Surprised, Shishido laughed. "Why doesn't it surprise me that you're the one who broke the 'no presents' rule?" he asked, some of the sick feeling in his stomach settling. It was only nerves that had made Ohtori avoid his eyes this time. "C'mon, my parents will be home any minute, you can give it to me in my room and say hi to her at the same time."

Pochi was certainly happy to see Ohtori; she leapt up onto the younger boy, tail wagging a mile a minute as she frisked like a much younger dog. Ohtori knelt and patted her, laughing as she attempted to lick his face. Shishido just leaned against the wall and watched them with a grin on his face. There was something terribly cute about watching his best friend play with his dog, and always had been.

When Pochi was finally satisfied with the attention, Ohtori stood and presented Shishido with a wrapped gift; politely with both hands. For once Shishido remembered his manners and took it the same way, flushing slightly as he fumbled with the paper. It turned out to be a DVD of a movie based on one of Shishido's favourite Greek myths; he stared at the box in shock. It wasn't supposed to be released in Japan for almost a month, though it had been out in America for a week now. The box was clearly Japanese, however, and the fine print proclaimed it to have both a Japanese dub and subtitle option. "How...?"

"My father has some connections," Ohtori said with a small smile. "I remembered you talking about how much you wanted to see this, and how mad you were that it was going to take so long to come out here, so I thought I'd give you a head start."

Shishido was a bit floored. Both that Ohtori had remembered a chance comment he'd made in response to a poster they'd seen for the movie, and by the fact that there was no way Ohtori had made the arrangements to get this since the previous Sunday. "Thanks," he said, running his fingers over the box. Part of him wanted to invite Ohtori to come over and watch it with him, as thanks, but with the awkwardness that had grown between him he wasn't sure the invitation would be welcome. It was a step beyond anything they'd ever done before, to meet deliberately with no intention of doing anything related to tennis, and in the wake of Atobe's earlier comments it felt weirdly to Shishido like he'd have been asking for a date or something.

"Um." Ohtori sounded hesitant again, and maybe Shishido was imagining it but there seemed to be a hint of disappointment as well. "I should probably go, I guess. Thank you for inviting me, Shishido-san..."

"Wait," Shishido said, just a touch desperate. He didn't want to leave things like this between them, didn't want to throw away this one chance he finally had to really talk to Ohtori. When the younger boy paused and looked at him curiously, he took a deep breath and tried to steady himself.

"Choutarou, won't you at least tell me what I did to upset you so much?" he pleaded with his partner. There was a brief flash of the same sorrow he'd seen in those deep brown eyes last weekend, before Ohtori lowered his eyes and schooled his expression. "Hey, don't do that!" Shishido exclaimed, frustrated. "Don't hide from me, damn it. You haven't been this closed off towards me since I first asked you to help me train. What the hell is going on, Choutarou?"

A hint of white appeared as Ohtori bit at his lower lip, his eyes still turned away. "Shishido-san," he finally said softly, "The truth is, it seemed to me like, after the first time you asked me for help, it was always me who initiated things between us." At Shishido's blank look, he sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "It was always me who called you to go play, me who suggested we stick together after team meetings or practices, me who cornered you after classes to hang out. I kept telling myself that I was just imagining it, but that's what it _felt_ like."

"Choutarou..." Shishido started, bewildered. What the hell was his partner talking about? It hadn't always been him who'd initiated contact between them, had it? Shishido tried to think back, to remember times when _he'd_ been the one to suggest they go out or spend time together. Nothing came immediately to mind, but surely that was just because no one incident stuck out in his mind? And anyway, even if it _was_ true, so what? It wasn't like Ohtori had been forced to drag him kicking and screaming.

"No, let me finish," Ohtori asked, and Shishido sighed and nodded. "I suppose it was probably childish of me," the junior continued doggedly, "but I wanted _some_ reassurance that it was all in my head. I decided to just _stop_. Not call you, not look you up after class, not try to track you down at home."

Shishido felt his heart clench as his partner laughed, the sound uncharacteristically bitter. "In all honesty, I didn't think it would take more than a couple of days for me to hear from you," Ohtori admitted. "I was sure it was just my imagination. But days went by, and I never saw you. I told myself you were just busy with studying, and _surely_ in a week or two you'd call me to go play tennis."

"But I didn't," Shishido whispered, suddenly understanding why Atobe had been so exasperated with him when he'd admitted that the only reason he'd finally gone looking for Ohtori had been because of Hiyoshi telling him about his partner quitting the club. How must that have looked to Ohtori?

"I... fucking hell, Choutarou, I'm sorry," he said miserably. "I really _was_ just busy, and I kept thinking that I shouldn't be monopolizing so much of your time now that we didn't need to practice together constantly." He gave the younger boy a helpless look. "I _meant_ to call you, really I did. You know me, I get focused on things and forget about everything else. Including things like how long it's been since I last ate, let alone since the last time I called you."

Finally Ohtori raised his eyes again, and Shishido saw burgeoning hope in the younger boy's gaze. "So then... it really was just all a misunderstanding?" he asked - more like 'pleaded'. "I thought... it seemed like things might be okay last Sunday, but then Atobe-san and Jirou-san showed up and it felt kind of like you hadn't wanted to be alone with me..."

"You big dumb idiot," Shishido exclaimed, half in exasperation and half in affection. "If you'd stuck around long enough, I was going to invite you out to dinner, just the two of us, to catch up. Atobe and Jirou were just kind of an afterthought, to give us someone worth playing, that was all. I didn't even really mean to invite them, it just kinda happened."

"Really?" There was a light in Ohtori's eyes that Shishido hadn't even realized was missing until it returned. It made something clench low in his gut, and he shivered, not sure he liked the sensation. "Shishido-san... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tested you like that."

"Can't say I really blame you," Shishido admitted wryly, trying to calm himself. "If it'd been me in your position, I'd probably have just hunted you down and cursed you out for ignoring me, but you always were too polite for your own damn good."

That made Ohtori laugh, a light, delighted sound that made the twisting in Shishido's stomach increase. A bit uncomfortable, Shishido tried to keep the atmosphere light. "Anyway, things are okay between us now, right? We'll play together on the weekends, or something, and get our game back in shape. And kick the snot out of Jirou and Atobe next time we play them."

"Absolutely," Ohtori agreed, eyes sparkling. "I do still need to spend a lot of time practicing, and you should be studying, but at least we're talking properly again."

"You know what's funny?" Shishido commented, laughing softly himself. "Atobe and Jirou had this whole elaborate theory about how you had an infatuation with me, and that's why you treated me differently than everyone else. I guess they thought you felt jilted, or something, and that's why you were brushing me off. Can you believe it?"

He glanced up at his partner again, and his laughter caught in his throat. The deer-in-headlights look in Ohtori's big brown eyes was not exactly doing anything to disprove Atobe's theory. "Choutarou?" he asked hesitantly. "You don't... I mean, it's not like you... right?"

Well, that hadn't exactly been his most coherent moment ever. Ohtori couldn't seem to decide whether he wanted to blush furiously or let all the blood drain out of his face, and the resulting expression should have been funny but wasn't.

"I... Shishido-san, I..." Ohtori was floundering, and every second that passed as he didn't deny it made Shishido's heart beat a little faster. There was just no way. Surely there was no way Atobe had been right.

Finally Ohtori ducked his head, the blush winning out as he mumbled, "I... I did kind of have a bit of a crush on you, I guess." Shishido felt like his heart stopped briefly, before picking up in triple time, beating so fast it was making him almost nauseous. Or maybe that was just shock. Ohtori was continuing, oblivious to his partner's distress, "It's not like I ever would have said anything. I didn't realize anyone had figured it out. But I guess... I'm sort of glad you know."

He looked up with a hesitant smile, but Shishido must have been wearing his own version of a deer-in-headlights look, because the smile faded quickly. "Um. Shishido-san? Are you okay?" Ohtori asked, wide-eyed with worry.

Shishido just gaped at him, totally speechless. He couldn't believe Ohtori actually felt that way, about _him_ , let alone that the younger boy was _admitting_ it. He tried to process the idea. Ohtori had thought about kissing him... maybe even doing other things with him? He supposed there was a certain allure of the forbidden to it all, but you just weren't supposed to _think_ about your best friend like that, damn it! He wasn't supposed to have to wonder about just what Ohtori might have fantasized about doing with him...

An inevitable thought struck him. He knew the physical needs of the teenaged male body as well as anyone their age. Had Ohtori thought about him even while... while... Shishido couldn't even manage to complete the thought. He felt his own face flush, his ears burning as a shudder ran down his spine. This was _not_ happening, Ohtori was not confessing to him and he was so not thinkingabouthispartnerjerkingoff in _any_ context...

"I... I think it's getting late," he said, abruptly finding his voice again. The shocked, hurt look in Ohtori's eyes was too painful to look at, so he turned away, fussing with putting the DVD away with the others on his shelf. His breathing was a little too fast, but he couldn't seem to slow it. "You should probably go, before your parents think I've kidnapped you or something."

"Shishido-san?" Ohtori's voice sounded smaller than Shishido had ever heard it, like he was a little kid or something. Or like Shishido was breaking his heart, but he was trying not to _think_ about that, damn it. "We're... we're still okay, right? I mean... we just fixed this, we're going to start spending time together again, right?"

"Yeah," Shishido assured him, but his voice was husky and he still couldn't look at his partner. "Yeah, we're fine, Choutarou. I'm just tired, I hate birthday parties and now I'm exhausted." He managed a twisted smile over his shoulder in Ohtori's general direction. "The only reason I even had this damn thing was because it seemed like it was my only chance of actually getting to talk to you."

That seemed to reassure the younger boy somewhat, because Shishido saw him offer a tentative smile in return. "You didn't have to do that, Shishido-san," he said, but he sounded pleased. "I guess I'll talk to you later, then? Maybe we can go play this weekend again."

"Sounds good," Shishido agreed, turning to face him again. He had to shove his hands in his pockets to hide the way they were shaking, but that was a normal pose for him so hopefully Ohtori wouldn't think anything of it. "I'll call you."

"All right," Ohtori nodded, his smile widening a bit. "You don't have to let me out, Shishido-san, I can find my own way to the door. I'll see you soon." He reached for the doorknob, but then hesitated long enough to add, "Happy birthday, Shishido-san. Sleep well."

Then he was gone, and Shishido was able to draw a deep, almost sobbing breath. He collapsed down onto his bed, staring at the door as he listened to his best friend make his way out of the apartment. His thoughts were running around in psychotic little circles, and he couldn't seem to focus on anything. Damn it, what the hell was he supposed to do now?


	6. Chapter 6

This time, Shishido _was_ actively avoiding Ohtori. He knew he was probably destroying his chances of fixing the mess they'd made of their friendship, and something inside him wanted to curl up and die at the very thought, but he just couldn't face his partner until he'd gotten a handle on how he felt about the whole thing.

The idea that Ohtori had a crush on him, once it really sank in, bothered Shishido a lot more than he wanted to admit, even to himself. Apparently he wasn't nearly as open-minded about that sort of thing as he'd thought he was. Any time he started thinking about what sort of thoughts might have been going through the younger boy's head when they were together, or remembered that burning light of hope and a dream rekindled in his partner's eyes when they'd finally decided the last month had just been one royal screw-up...

Granted, Ohtori had been talking about it in the past tense when he'd confessed, and Atobe and Jirou had both said they thought the younger boy was getting over it. It didn't seem to matter. Any time Shishido thought about talking to the other boy - or worse, facing him - his mind just shut down in shock and refused to process anything.

So he'd stopped answering his phone, letting his message service screen his calls for him. He made sure he didn't go anywhere near Ohtori's class, and stayed _far_ away from the music wing. He knew it was the coward's way out, but he just couldn't bring himself to face his partner and best friend while he was in this state of mind.

The first message from Ohtori came the day after the party. It was long and rambling, first asking if he wanted to play on the weekend and then going on to chatter about inconsequentials until it abruptly cut off, past the time limit. The second, immediately after, was a sheepish apology for babbling followed by a reminder to call to arrange a time to meet.

It was so exactly like almost every other message his partner had ever left him that it made Shishido smile through the pain in his chest as he deleted them. Ohtori really had forgiven him; now it was up to Shishido to make the next move, so their friendship could return to the way it had been. Unfortunately, Shishido was nowhere near ready to make that move.

Two days later the third message came, a puzzled inquiry as to why Shishido hadn't called and a joke about how the answering service must have deleted the previous message for being too long. Only someone who knew Ohtori as well as Shishido did would have been able to detect the worry and fear in the younger boy's voice as he laughed. Shishido deleted that one, too, his hand shaking as he hit the button.

The fourth was a text message, first thing Monday morning, asking if Shishido was all right. He hid the phone under the edge of his desk and stared at it all morning, unable to keep his eyes off the blinking cursor at the end and the menu option that asked if he wanted to reply. He got in trouble twice with his teachers for inattention, and received more than a few odd looks from Atobe, but finally the phone's battery died and the screen went blank. When he got home, he plugged it in and promptly deleted the text message.

When the fifth and final message arrived at the end of the week, at first he thought it was a wrong number since it started with several seconds of dead air. He was about to delete it when Ohtori finally spoke, a whispered "Shishido-san... I'm sorry." His language was extremely formal and his voice broke on the last syllable, before he hastily ended the call.

That message, Shishido kept.

He wasn't sure why he held on to that one when he'd deleted all the others. To torture himself with, maybe, since he listened to it over and over all weekend. Every time he listened his thumb hovered over the button to delete it, but he couldn't bring himself to press it. The choked misery in his partner's voice made Shishido feel like he couldn't draw enough air, and forcing himself to listen seemed like the least he could do considering he was the one who'd made Ohtori feel so bad in the first place.

The first time he caught himself thinking about his partner while jerking off, after the third message, he lost it entirely. It hadn't even been an actively sexual thought, just a vague sort of 'I wonder if Choutarou really did think about me while he was doing this', but it was enough to send him bolting for a _very_ cold shower. He leaned against the tiled walls and let the frigid water numb him, ignoring his mother knocking on the door and asking why he'd felt the sudden need for a shower at midnight on a Sunday.

The water calmed him enough that he was able to look her in the eyes afterwards and explain that he'd woken from a nightmare and needed to wash off the sweat. She fussed over him a bit, but he brushed her off with the annoyance common to all teenaged males with overly nurturing mothers, and escaped back to his room. He saw his brother wink at him from the door to his room, and his face flamed as he realized the older boy probably thought it had been a wet dream he'd woken from, not a nightmare.

Even once he was safely back in his bed, he couldn't stop worrying at it in his mind like Pochi with a bone. Thinking about Ohtori thinking about him was just a little too close to thinking about Ohtori, period. He shoved the very idea firmly out of his head, and swore to himself that he wasn't going to jerk off again until he could be sure no weird thoughts like that would creep up on him again. It didn't matter how many cold showers he had to take, or _how_ frustrated he got.

The worst part of it all was the dreams. Maybe because of the reason he was denying himself, or maybe it was because he'd been spending so much time obsessing over what Ohtori might or might not have fantasized about doing with him, but Shishido's dreams took on a somewhat disturbing trend. Not that he wasn't used to having erotic dreams of one kind or another; he _was_ fifteen. But now they had a tendency to feature Ohtori in some way, and that was freaking him out more than all the rest of it combined.

By the time Monday came around again he was a nervous wreck, and his mother took one look at him as he emerged from his room and ordered him straight back to bed.

Shishido wasn't in the least loathe to stay home for the day. He'd been blowing off his study sessions with Atobe and Jirou ever since the party, and he hadn't gotten a single sentence done in his homework for the weekend. He knew he should have been concerned about his grades, but at the moment he frankly couldn't bring himself to care. The disaster his friendship with Ohtori had become seemed far more important than preparing for ascension exams that were still months away.

He managed to fall into a fitful sleep in the afternoon, and as a result when his phone rang he was too groggy to remember why he shouldn't answer it right away. Memory caught up to him even as he croaked out his name, and for a moment his heart jumped into his throat, choking him. If it was Ohtori, what would he do? Hang up on him? Make some excuse about being too sick to talk, and then just turn the phone off and leave it off so he wouldn't forget again?

To his relief, it was Atobe's deep baritone on the other end of the line, not Ohtori's soft tenor. "Shishido, what the hell is going on? Where were you this weekend?"

"I'm sick, obviously, or I'd have been in school today," Shishido muttered, rolling over onto his back. "And I was home all weekend, why?"

There was silence on the other end of the line, then Atobe sighed. "You forgot, didn't you? How sick _are_ you? Couldn't you at least have called to let me know you weren't coming?"

"What, you guys couldn't study without me?" Shishido asked, bewildered. Atobe sounded almost _hurt_ , and that wasn't like his friend at all.

"You're an ass, Ryou," Atobe replied, and Shishido could almost hear him rolling his eyes. "The party was this weekend. I can't believe you forgot."

Party. Atobe's party. Atobe's _birthday_. Which was only five days after his, damn it. Cursing, Shishido sat up, holding his aching head in his hands. Atobe had planned his party for the weekend after his birthday, and the invitations had gone out a _month_ ago. Shishido had completely and utterly forgotten. "Fucking _hell_ , Keigo, I'm sorry," he said miserably. "I just... it's been a really bad week, and I'm not thinking straight. You probably wouldn't have wanted me there anyway."

Come to think of it, maybe it was just as well he'd forgotten. Ohtori almost certainly would have been invited, and there was no way Shishido could have handled seeing him in the state of mind he was in. Though he _would_ have at least told Atobe ahead of time that he was sick, if he'd remembered.

"Did something happen between you and Ohtori?" Atobe demanded, and Shishido's stomach lurched.

"Wh-why would you think that?" he asked, cursing the stammer for giving him away. Atobe's 'Insight' didn't work as well if he couldn't read the person's body language, but he'd known Shishido long enough to be able to pick up on subtle nuances in his voice.

"Possibly because you've hardly said three words to me since your party, and Ohtori begged off sick on Saturday as well," Atobe replied dryly. Something in Shishido ached at the reminder that Ohtori was suffering because of his inability to accept the fact that his partner was gay, but he shoved it down again. Atobe was continuing, "Are you coming over tonight to study? You've got a lot of catching up to do."

"What part of 'I'm sick' did you not understand?" Shishido snapped back, irritated more at himself than his friend. "I'm not even sure I'll be up for school tomorrow, either." The longer he could convince his mother to let him stay home, the longer he could put off his inevitable encounter with Ohtori.

"If you're actually ill, I'll eat my racquet," Atobe snorted. "It's not like you to run away from your problems, but it's your life to throw away. However, I will not allow you to do poorly on your ascension exams. Not only would it reflect badly on me as both your friend and former captain, but you know perfectly well that if your incoming grades aren't high enough you won't be permitted to join the high school tennis club."

Damn, Shishido had forgotten about that. "Fine, fine, I'll come over," he capitulated with bad grace. "Don't blame me if I start throwing up on your expensive carpets," he added just for a bit of revenge.

Unperturbed, Atobe simply said "I'll send one of my drivers to pick you up, if you take the bus it will be far too late by the time you get here." Then he hung up, leaving Shishido listening to the beep of the dial tone. Sighing, he hauled himself out of bed and started searching for clean clothes and his textbooks.

By the time he reached Atobe's mansion, he was grudgingly starting to admit that getting up had probably been good for him. With his mind focused on all the studying he was going to have to catch up on, instead of the problem with Ohtori, he was starting to feel human again for the first time in days. He nodded at the butler that let him into the huge house, and headed straight for Atobe's study room with the familiarity of habit.

Raised voices made him pause as he reached the top of the winding staircase. He couldn't hear what was being said through the thick door, but he approached cautiously. He didn't think he'd ever heard Atobe actually shout at someone outside of tennis practice, and while Jirou could certainly get loud when he was excited, this definitely sounded angry.

He was tempted to just wait out in the hall until whatever was happening had finished, but curiosity got the better of him. Turning to the next door down the hall, which led to Atobe's entertainment room, he entered it and approached the study from that direction. There was no door between these two rooms, and he could see Jirou sitting at the table, looking supremely unhappy. He still couldn't make out Atobe's words as the other boy murmured something vaguely soothing, but the angry reply was loud and clear this time. And it wasn't Jirou yelling, either.

"How could you _do_ this to me?" Ohtori was almost hysterical, but Shishido had no trouble recognizing that voice. He froze just outside the door, eyes wide and heart pounding in his chest. Ohtori was _here_? Had Atobe set this up? It wouldn't be unlike his friend to try to meddle, but if he had, Shishido was going to chew him a new one. Just as soon as Ohtori finished yelling and left. If he had his way, the younger boy would never know he was there.

"I thought you were my friends," the junior was continuing bitterly. "How _could_ you tell him? Don't you think if I'd wanted him to know I'd have told him myself?"

"We didn't think it would hurt any more," Jirou replied, hunching down a bit in his chair, his voice small and apologetic. "We thought you were getting over him."

"I was!" Ohtori shouted back. Shishido pressed himself against the wall, a little shocked. He'd never heard his partner lose his temper like this; had in fact been starting to wonder if Ohtori really had any kind of temper to lose. "I _am_! But what the hell difference does that make? I still didn't want him to know about it!"

"Ohtori, you're over-reacting," Atobe said, and this time Shishido could hear him. "If you'll just calm down for a moment and tell us what happened..."

"Over-reacting?" Ohtori's voice cracked on the last word, and he finally stopped yelling. When he continued after a moment, however, Shishido almost wished he would start again. The low, intensely furious voice the junior was using now was somehow worse than hearing him yell. "I'll tell you what happened. I stayed behind like you said I should, and we actually had managed to fix things when he mentioned the 'insane theory' the two of you had told him about."

Jirou flinched visibly and wilted a little further, and Shishido saw Atobe reach out to brace the smaller boy's shoulder with one hand. Ohtori kept going, oblivious or uncaring to how much he was hurting Jirou. "It caught me completely by surprise, and by the time I recovered my wits it was too late to try to deny it. So I admitted it, and he _froze_. Then he essentially told me to get out, and he hasn't said one. Word. Since."

"I'm sorry," Jirou whispered, tears in his big brown eyes. "Ohtori-kun, I really thought things would be okay! He was so miserable when you were avoiding him, I thought maybe..."

Shishido cursed as his friend's eyes flickered over to him and paused, widening as Jirou caught sight of him. He'd been leaning forward without realizing it, trying to hear the soft apology, and Jirou had spotted him. Apparently following his gaze and realizing who had to be there, Atobe called out wearily, "Shishido, stop lurking in shadows and get in here. Maybe if we can get both of you in one place long enough with a mediator, we'll be able to sort this out so you two can stop slinking around like whipped puppies."

Heart beating far too fast in the answering silence, Shishido swallowed hard and walked into the room. His hands were shaking, so he tucked one into his pocket and wrapped the other a little tighter around the strap of his bag. He'd told himself he wasn't going to look, but despite his best intentions, his gaze went straight to Ohtori. "Choutarou," he said, trying for a casual greeting. His voice broke on the word, though, and he winced.

For just a moment, Ohtori looked like utter hell. There were dark circles under the tall boy's eyes, his hair was a bit mussed, and his eyes were red like he'd been crying recently. The sight of it squeezed Shishido's heart so hard he thought it might stop, and he caught his breath. Given one more second of seeing his partner and best friend looking so devastated, Shishido would have blurted out an apology, and gotten down on hands and knees if that was what it took to get Ohtori to forgive him.

Before he could even open his mouth, however, Ohtori drew himself abruptly to his full height and stared down at Shishido. All the passion and anger and hurt fled the younger boy's eyes, and his features could have been carved from purest glacier ice. Shishido had heard other students and even tennis club members refer to his partner as the 'Ice Prince' on occasion. He'd often wondered how the warm, friendly, affectionate junior could possibly have earned such a nickname.

Now, seeing in person the way the air around Ohtori almost visibly dropped in temperature in response to the tall boy's expression, Shishido didn't have to wonder any more.

"Shishido-san." Though the words were perfectly polite and even cordial, the tone was practically dripping frost. Shishido actually shivered, and saw Jirou do the same. "I'm sorry, I was just leaving. I won't interrupt your study time."

"Ohtori-kun," Jirou started hesitantly, but he was silenced instantly when that glacial gaze turned briefly to him. The senior sank even farther down in his chair, turning to huddle into Atobe's supporting hand. Even Atobe looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't quite dare in the face of that chill.

Without another word Ohtori turned and left, his movements measured and graceful, not the angry stalk Shishido had been half expecting. He even closed the door gently, being careful not to slam it. For long moments after the sound of the latch echoed in the room, there was utter silence.

Finally Atobe breathed out a long sigh, and leaned back in his chair. His hand was absently rubbing Jirou's shoulder, as the smaller boy remained huddled in on himself, but the storm-grey eyes were fixed on Shishido.

"Well. You certainly made a mess of that," Atobe said. "Have you really been avoiding him since then? Is that why your phone always went to voicemail this past week?"

All the confusion and anger and fear Shishido had been holding inside for days exploded, with Atobe providing a convenient target. "What the _fuck_ , Atobe? You dropped a fucking bombshell in my lap, and you expected me to just take it and smile? I needed to think about it, damn it! I've been avoiding him because I didn't know if I could face him without freaking out on him!"

"Shishido, how could you?" Jirou turned big, wounded eyes on him, and Shishido snarled back at him. "After that whole time when you were so upset that he wasn't talking to you, how could you turn around and do the same thing to him?"

"Because I fucking well figured it was better than getting hysterical at him for thinking about me that way, damn it," Shishido growled back. "And excuse me, but what the _fuck_ possessed you to try to set us up? I'm not fucking gay!"

"Nobody said you were," Atobe cut in tartly. "Stop yelling, Ryou. Jirou wasn't trying to set you up, he just thought you were mature enough to handle the truth, and that it would help the two of you sort things out if you weren't hiding things from each other. Clearly, he was mistaken."

"It's not a matter of maturity, damn it!" Shishido protested, though he had a sinking feeling that it probably was. "How would you feel if I just suddenly confessed to you that I'd been thinking about you that way, huh?"

"I would be flattered, find out if you still felt that way and what I could do to keep you from getting hurt, and assure you that our friendship was in no danger because of it," Atobe shot back, eyes flashing. "And also reassure you that I didn't think less of you for it. Do you think I _haven't_ had boys confess to me, Shishido? Frankly, I'm surprised Ohtori was the first one to ever tell you, but I suppose you're considered somewhat less approachable than I am."

"It's not the same if it's some random guy who likes you, damn it," Shishido snarled. "Ohtori is my _partner_. Who knows how much time he spent _thinking_ about me like that when we were together? It creeped me out, all right?"

"You could have just told him you needed time to think about it," Jirou commented from his huddle, his voice small. "He'd have backed off and given you the space you needed, but then when you were ready you'd have had your friendship back again. But you _hurt_ him, Shishido! I don't think he's going to forgive you very easily."

Biting his lip, Shishido had to admit to himself that Jirou's suggestion was exactly what he _should_ have done. His friend was right; Ohtori would have left him alone long enough to come to terms if he'd just asked for the time. But damn it, it wasn't like they didn't all know that he tended to react to things with his emotions instead of his brain.

"I don't think we're going to get any studying done tonight," Atobe said as the silence stretched out after Jirou's words. Before tonight Shishido would have described his friend's tone as 'cool', but after seeing the ice Ohtori was capable of, Atobe didn't even come close. "Shishido, go home. My driver will take you. When you've stopped having a temper tantrum like a five-year-old, we can talk about this reasonably and see if we can salvage the situation."

"I've had more than enough 'help' from the two of you," Shishido snapped, stung by Atobe's dismissal and lashing out without thinking about it. He regretted his words when he saw the tears start tracking down over Jirou's cheeks, but he couldn't take them back now. "Until you two get over this fucking meddling streak, I'll do my own damn studying, thanks."

"Fine. You know the way out." This time Atobe's voice _was_ 'cool', and Shishido hid a flinch. Atobe was furious. Well, fuck it. So was Shishido, and of the two of them, he thought he had a whole hell of a lot more reason to be upset. He stalked out of the room, and unlike Ohtori he did slam the door on his way out. Somehow, it didn't make him feel any better.


	7. Chapter 7

Shishido couldn't remember ever being more miserable in his entire life. Not only did the temperature in the area drop about ten degrees any time he and Ohtori happened to run into each other in the halls, but Jirou and Atobe weren't speaking to him either. Jirou just gave him big soulful eyes and fled any time Shishido got near, like he was afraid Shishido would start yelling at him again. And Atobe was treating him like something that needed to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

It made for some extremely uncomfortable classes, that was for damn sure. Shishido and Atobe were both in the 3-1 class, as was Oshitari; Jirou and Mukahi were in 3-2, though if Jirou hadn't slept through half his exams last year Shishido was fairly certain all three of them would have been in the top class together. But Atobe and Shishido had chosen to sit next to each other at the start of the year, and now they were stuck with the arrangement.

Not like he'd never fought with Atobe before, or with Jirou for that matter. They'd had some pretty spectacular fights in the past. But he'd never been on the outs with both of his friends at once before, and not having anyone to talk to or hang out with was slowly driving Shishido to distraction.

After the first week, studying at home in his room had started to draw concerned inquiries from his family about why he never went out any more. Since the absolute last thing he wanted to do was try to explain what was going on, Shishido had taken to retreating to the school library after classes were done, doing his studying in the quiet atmosphere there.

Of course, given his state of mind, he wasn't getting a hell of a lot of studying done. As October headed rapidly towards November, Shishido's grades continued to slip. At this rate he'd be lucky to _pass_ the ascension exams, let alone keep his marks high enough to be able to play on the tennis team, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.

Still, he continued to make the effort, because what the hell else was he going to do? Go home and stare at the walls and brood? Find an indoor court where he could play, when even looking at his racquet drove home how very much he'd managed to screw things up?

He'd lost count of the number of times he'd started to call Ohtori. He wasn't even sure what he'd intended to say when his partner - former partner - picked up. Apologize for being such an idiot? Yell at him for putting Shishido into such a damn uncomfortable position? Beg and plead for things to go back to the way they had been?

He never made it to the last number, though. A couple of time he'd tried using the speed dial button, but he always hung up before the call connected. Once, just once, Ohtori had actually answered the phone before Shishido could hit the disconnect button. At the sound of the younger boy's voice Shishido had flung the phone away from him so hard it shattered against the wall.

At least his parents had accepted his excuse of dropping the phone and accidentally stepping on it. He hadn't told them about it until after he'd spent the afternoon and evening locked into his room, crying, though. Considering he could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of things that had ever driven him to tears, that was saying a lot.

That moment had marked the low point of the whole mess. After that Shishido mostly just felt numb, like he was running on automatic. It was as if he was walking around in a daze, speaking when spoken to, but otherwise not interacting with anyone around him. For the most part people left him alone, perhaps sensing that poking at him might bring an extremely unfavourable reaction. As long as he could cling to this odd detachment, he could ignore the feeling that he was bleeding out inside.

The two weeks before his party when Ohtori had seemed to be avoiding him had shown him how important the younger boy had become in his life, but now that there didn't seem to be any chance of recovering their friendship, it felt oddly like part of Shishido had been destroyed along with it. He winced any time he thought about it like that, because it sounded far too much like something out of one of those horrible romance novels Oshitari was always reading, but it was true. You didn't have to be _in_ love to love someone, right? And your best friend could be as big a part of your life as your lover. Ohtori had been all that to him, and more.

Maybe if he could have poured his troubles out to Atobe and Jirou, he would have been able to lance the painful wound before it had a chance to fester. But since neither of them was speaking to him, all he could do was shove the hurt down inside until it wasn't quite so painful, and hope it would go away if he ignored it long enough.

In the end, though, the event that shocked him out of his odd apathy came from a totally unexpected source.

He was studying in the library as usual, trying to force himself to concentrate on the essay he was supposed to be writing. History was usually his favourite subject, but even it had lost its shine for him now. He'd written and scratched out half a dozen opening paragraphs in his notebook when someone speaking suddenly from behind him made him jump.

"You really are an unmitigated asshole, aren't you?" The voice was low and only vaguely familiar, and full of seething anger and hatred. His heart pounding, Shishido turned in his chair and stared at the speaker. Furious silver eyes stared back at him, narrowed with the same emotions that had been in his words.

Shishido finally found his voice. "Excuse me?" he sputtered, cursing his bad luck. Of all the people he absolutely didn't want to run into under any circumstances, Amano was second on the list. Though from the sounds of it, this might not have been a coincidental meeting. "Shouldn't you be in music practice?"

"Half the orchestra has the stomach flu that's going around, including Choutarou," the pianist replied. "Sakaki cancelled practice. And you heard me. Do you want me to put it in smaller words for you so you'll understand?" Silver eyes mocked him. "You're an utter bastard. A jerk. A heartless, unfeeling cad. Want me to keep going?"

Snarling, Shishido half rose from the table, fists clenched. "Where the hell do you get off..."

"D'you know he cried himself to sleep for a week straight?" Amano interrupted him, eyes flashing and hands clenched in fists of his own. "And that was the _first_ time, when he just thought you didn't give a rat's ass about him. I won't even go into how he's reacting now that he thinks you actually hate him, because if I start thinking about it I'm going to punch you out. And frankly, you're not worth getting into trouble over."

The image of Ohtori crying himself to sleep, coupled with the memory of the tall boy's red-rimmed eyes at Atobe's, was enough to make Shishido collapse back into his seat. His breath left him in a rush of pain, but he struggled to keep his expression neutral. "I missed the part where this is any business of yours?" he growled, using anger to cover the hurt.

"Oh, it's very much my business," Amano assured him, moving closer so he could lower his voice to ensure they weren't overheard. "He's _my_ boyfriend, and if you think I'll stay out of it when someone is hurting him this badly, you're very much mistaken."

The air that had left Shishido was now refusing to return, and he stared at the pianist in shock. There had been part of him that suspected, had maybe even _known_ , but... to just hear him say it out loud like that...

"If you don't care about your own reputation, you might at least think about his," he finally snapped, hiding his clenched fists in his lap so Amano wouldn't see the way he was shaking. "You can't go around saying shit like that!"

"You already know, and if you were going to tell anyone you'd have done it before this," Amano asserted, his voice cool as he stared down at Shishido. "I suppose I should be grateful you're not quite that cruel. Or are you saving it to blackmail him with later?"

Without even being aware that he was moving, without even realizing he _intended_ to move, Shishido was up out of his seat and had Amano's collar fisted in his hand, pinning the smaller boy up against the bookshelves. There was no fear in those silver eyes, only fury to match Shishido's own.

"Don't you _dare_ insinuate that I would _ever_ do something like that to Choutarou," Shishido snarled, fighting the urge to plant his other fist into the smug bastard's stomach.

"Why not?" Amano jeered, the effect of his words in no way muted by the slightly choked sound in his voice. "You've already devastated him in every other way that matters. If you actually gave a damn about him, you wouldn't have hurt him so badly."

"You don't know a gods-damned thing, so shut your mouth," Shishido growled, tightening his fist and lifting Amano another inch. "Or I'll fucking well shut it for you. Why the hell did you come here?"

"To let you know what a good job you'd done of hurting him," Amano taunted, still unperturbed. "Since avoiding him is such an important part of your method, I figured you might want to hear how well it was going..."

This time Shishido cut him off with a punch. Some vestige of restraint kept him from striking the pianist himself; instead he smashed his fist into the bookcase, impacting with the books and sending several of them flying off the shelf. "What's the matter, am I hitting too close to home?" Amano asked softly, eyes narrowed. "I'd almost think you were suffering from a guilty conscience, Shishido."

"Shut the fuck up!" Releasing the younger boy abruptly, Shishido staggered back, nursing his hand. The knuckles were split and bleeding sluggishly, but the pain was just a counterpoint to the crushing agony in his chest. "Just get the hell away from me! Go comfort him, I'm sure you've been more than happy to do that. If you come near me again, I'll kill you, hear me?"

Slowly, deliberately, Amano straightened his uniform jacket, staring Shishido in the eyes the whole time. "You know what the most pathetic part of all this is?" he said softly, venom laced through his tone. "I think you really do love him. You're just too stupidly in denial to see what's in front of your own face, and too plain old _stupid_ to take a good thing when it's offered to you."

Gaping at him, Shishido couldn't even begin to find words to deny his ridiculous accusations. Okay, yes, he'd admitted to himself that Ohtori meant more to him than just about anyone. And he was still taking a hell of a lot of cold showers, as per his earlier resolution. But...

Taking a step forward, Amano lowered his voice further. "You know what else?" the pianist murmured. "By the time you actually admit to yourself what you really want, it'll be too late." Another step forward, and it wasn't until Shishido ran into the table that he realized he'd been backing away.

"In fact," Amano continued doggedly, "it's already too late." Another step, and now he was up in Shishido's face, and Shishido's hands were white-knuckled on the edge of the table to keep him from collapsing. "You had your chance, plenty of chances, and you threw them all away. He's _mine_ now, and you can't have him back." Satisfaction and something more dangerous glittered in the younger boy's eyes.

"And if you ever, _ever_ hurt him again," the long-haired boy all but whispered, "I will personally turn your life into a living hell. I've given him what you couldn't - I love him, and I won't let anyone hurt him. Certainly not you."

Without waiting for Shishido's response, Amano turned and stalked off, flipping his hair over his shoulder in an uncaring gesture. For a long moment Shishido remained frozen against the table, his thoughts in chaos, heart pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to come up through his throat.

Finally he collapsed back into his chair, lowering his head into his hands as he shook with reaction. His numb protection had shattered irretrievably, and everything came crashing down on him at once. How could he have been so damn stupid? How could he have hurt Ohtori so badly? Amano was right about one thing at least; Shishido'd had a chance to fix this, several chances, and all he'd done was hurt Ohtori more.

The pianist had made one major miscalculation, though. In shocking Shishido out of his apathy, he'd also awoken the same determination and fighting spirit that had made Shishido the first person in Hyoutei's history to win his way back onto the Regulars. Yeah, he'd needed Ohtori's help to do it, but that just made it all the more imperative that Shishido find some way to fix this, to make it up to his friend. He owed Ohtori so much.

What the hell difference did it make if Ohtori was gay? Sure, it was a little weird to think about the younger boy thinking about him like that, and sure, the whole thing still bothered Shishido more than he wanted to admit. But Ohtori was his partner, and his best friend. Wasn't that more important?

Grabbing his books, Shishido shoved them into his bag and all but bolted for the door. Atobe had been right, it wasn't like him to run from his problems, but that was exactly what he'd been doing. Well, no more. He was going to face this the same way he faced everything else; with a stubborn refusal to give up and admit defeat. If this mess was all his fault, then he was fucking well going to take responsibility and _do_ something about it.

Jirou's mother let him in with a smile and a comment about how she hadn't seen much of him lately. Shishido started to make an excuse, then remembered his new resolution to start _admitting_ it when he'd screwed up, and instead told her that he'd gotten into a fight with Jirou. The fact that her smile didn't waver in the least told him she already knew - and also that Jirou had probably forgiven him a long time ago, because if the sleepy boy had still been actively upset with him, his over-protective family wouldn't have even let Shishido in the door.

He made his way up the stairs to Jirou's room, not bothering to knock. He knew from his friend's mother that Jirou was alone up here, which meant he was either asleep, or had music turned up really loud on his headphones in an attempt to keep himself awake enough to study. Either way, he wasn't going to hear Shishido knocking.

It wasn't like it was the first time he'd just strolled into Jirou's room, but he felt a little uncomfortable doing it when things were still so awkward between the two of them. At least Jirou was awake; the other boy's back was to the door as he sat at his desk, and his chin was propped in one hand, but his pen was moving over the notebook and his head was bobbing slightly in time to the beat.

Reaching out, Shishido flipped the switch next to the light switch. It controlled the power to the socket the stereo was plugged into, killing the music instantly. It was the easiest way anyone had found to get Jirou's attention when he was listening to the music; if you went up and touched his shoulder he tended to jump half a foot in the air in surprise.

"Huh?" Startled by the sudden silence from his headphones, Jirou jerked upright and dropped his pen. "Is it dinner already?" Turning, he caught sight of Shishido, and his quizzical expression became apprehensive. "Oh, Shishido. Did you come to yell at me some more?"

"No, dumbass," Shishido couldn't help but snort, grinning weakly at his friend. "I came to apologize, and ask you for help."

"Apologize?" Jirou blinked at him, and Shishido nodded. "And ask for help?" Shishido nodded again. "But, Shishido," the other boy looked thoroughly bewildered, "You never apologize _or_ ask for help."

"I asked Choutarou for help once," Shishido corrected him, and Jirou's eyes widened in understanding. "And I learned an important lesson about it, then. So now I'm asking you."

"You're really not mad at me for interfering any more?" his friend asked cautiously, obviously not trusting this new peace offering entirely. Shishido shook his head.

"I swear," he said. "And I really am sorry for blowing up at you, I know you were just trying to help. Forgive me?"

"Of course," Jirou said it like he shouldn't have even needed to ask. Shishido felt some of the tension he'd been carrying around melt away with that simple agreement, and he sighed. "Have a seat," Jirou invited him, gesturing. "Tell me what's up?"

Shishido chose to sit on the edge of the bed, since he knew from previous experience that all of the other furniture in Jirou's room was horribly uncomfortable. It was deliberate; it didn't prevent the narcoleptic from falling asleep eventually, but it did keep him awake longer. "You already know most of it," he said. "I need to get over this stupid phobic reaction. And then I need to figure out a way to make it up to Choutarou."

"He might not forgive you now, you know," Jirou pointed out softly, turning in his chair to rest his chin on his hands on the back of it. "You hurt him pretty bad, Shishido."

"Yeah, I know," Shishido admitted painfully. "And if he won't, well... I guess I can't blame him. I fucked up royally, didn't I?" Jirou nodded solemnly, and Shishido sighed again. "But even if he won't forgive me, maybe I can at least make it stop hurting so much for him. But first I have to be able to face him without freaking out, damn it!"

"It really bothers you that much?" Jirou looked at him curiously. "Just knowing that he's like that, even if he's gotten over you? You never said anything about Oshitari and Mukahi..."

"I try not to think about them too hard," Shishido cut in dryly, shuddering. "I _don't_ want to know. And that's different, damn it. What they do with each other is their choice; it doesn't have anything to do with me. Choutarou was thinking about _me_ that way, Jirou!"

"It's not like he's the first person ever to have a crush on you," Jirou said, amused. "You used to get girls confessing to you all the time, when you still had long hair. Does it really make that much of a difference that he's a boy? It's not like he expected you to _do_ anything."

"Yes! No. I don't know." Frustrated, Shishido raked a hand through his hair. "Maybe it would be different if he were a girl, but... he's my _partner_ , Jirou. Closer to me in some ways than you and Atobe, maybe. It's just weird."

"So it's just because he was so close to you, that makes it weird?" Jirou asked, and Shishido nodded. "Are you sure?" the smaller boy persisted, and Shishido gave him an odd look. "What if it'd been me?"

"What if it had been you what?" Shishido said blankly. "What if it had been you that Choutarou had a crush on?"

Jirou shook his head. "No. What if it had been me who confessed to having a crush on you?" He waited expectantly as Shishido tried to process that idea.

"But... you don't!" Shishido sputtered, stymied by the very idea. Then he gave Jirou a horrified look. " _Do_ you?" Dear gods, that was _all_ this mess needed, another heart getting broken.

"No, no," Jirou assured him hastily. "I like you and all, but not like that. I'm just saying, 'what if'." Then he grinned impishly, the expression both Shishido and Atobe had learned to be wary of because it usually meant their sleepy friend was about to convince them to get into some kind of trouble. "Though I probably wouldn't say no if you wanted to experiment. But that's beside the point."

"Whoa, hey, wait a minute," Shishido broke in, shocked. "Jirou, you... you..."

"Kinda," the other boy admitted guilelessly. "I dunno, I like girls well enough. But I still wouldn't say no." He tilted his head and looked back at Shishido. "Does that bother you?"

It should have, shouldn't it? Jirou was just as close to him as Ohtori had been. So shouldn't he have been reacting the same way? Slowly, Shishido shook his head. "I dunno. I guess maybe it's the same as with Oshitari and Mukahi - it doesn't involve me, so I don't really care." He gave his friend a sharp look. "Just be careful, okay? You could get really hurt if people found out."

"I know," Jirou assured him. "Not like you even knew, is it? But we're supposed to be worrying about you, not me. How would you have reacted if I'd confessed to you?"

Shishido tried to picture it, and failed. Finally he shook his head. "I just can't imagine it," he admitted. "Hell, Jirou. It's like trying to imagine Atobe confessing to me. I _know_ you don't feel that way about me."

"All right, what if I just told you that I'd thought about you that way sometimes?" Jirou tried again. When Shishido looked at him askance, he shrugged and answered the question he could see in Shishido's eyes. "A few times. It's not a big deal. You and Atobe are the people I spend the most time with, and you're both really hot. Why wouldn't I?"

"I am so never going to be able to watch you sleep again without wondering if you're dreaming about me, you do realize that?" Shishido muttered, looking away uncomfortably. Geez, did Jirou _really_ have to tell him that? Bad enough that he knew about Ohtori...

Only, thinking about Jirou fantasizing about him didn't bring on the same kind of reaction that finding out about Ohtori's crush had. It was kind of like poking at a sore tooth; it gave him a bit of a sour feeling in his stomach, but there was a sort of repulsed fascination at the idea as well. And, as Atobe had said before, he found he was just a little flattered to know that Jirou thought he was hot.

Why didn't it bother him as much? Jirou was arguably closer to him than Ohtori had been. Did it make that much of a difference whether the fantasies had been based on romantic desire or just pure lust and hormones?

Was it just that he'd spent so much time obsessing over Ohtori's feelings for him that he'd sort of numbed himself to the idea of a male friend thinking of him that way? Maybe. But the moment he considered the idea in terms of _Ohtori_ instead of Jirou, that horrible shivery feeling returned to his stomach, twisting him in knots.

"All right, what the fuck?" he burst out, baffled. "It bugs me, but not as much. Why doesn't it bother me as much if it's you, damn it?"

"You've been thinking about it a lot, haven't you?" Jirou asked softly, his voice neutral and carefully not judging. "About him. About him thinking about you. Am I wrong?"

Shishido wanted to deny it, but he couldn't lie. Not to Jirou, not when he'd asked his friend to help him. "Yeah. Obviously, or I wouldn't be such a mess now. So?"

"So maybe the part that bothers you isn't how he feels about you," Jirou shrugged, looking back at him calmly. Shishido stared at him, suspecting where this was going and not entirely sure he was going to be able to argue it. Jirou gave him a sympathetic smile, and concluded, "Maybe what really bothers you is how thinking about how he feels about you makes _you_ feel."


	8. Chapter 8

"I cannot believe you're making me do this," Shishido muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and wishing he dared loosen his tie. At least this was Hyoutei, and the chairs in the auditorium were comfortable rather than being the cheap stackable type used by most schools. They could have been the plushest, most well padded chairs in the world and he still would have felt uncomfortable, though.

"You asked for our help, and we're giving it to you," Atobe informed him sardonically. "Stop fidgeting, it's not like we're asking you to sit through some sort of excruciating torture. The Hyoutei orchestra is one of the best student orchestras in the city, if not the country. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy yourself." When Shishido gave him a skeptical look, Atobe smirked and gestured at the shorter boy between them. "If Jirou can stay awake for this, surely you can sit still for it."

"He'll be asleep by the end of the first action, or movement or whatever it's called," Shishido predicted, making Atobe chuckle and Jirou frown at him.

"I will not! I like music," the smaller boy protested, but his eyelids were already starting to droop. When Shishido snorted at him, Jirou sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I do. Wake me up for Ohtori-kun's part, at least? I don't want to miss it."

"We will," Shishido assured him, sighing and slumping back into his own seat. "And I know I asked for your help, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. What am I going to accomplish by coming to the stupid concert?"

"You show him that you still care enough about him to be interested in something that matters a great deal to him," Atobe replied tartly. "Something which isn't particularly to your own tastes, but which you are willing to attend precisely _because_ it matters to him. Now hush, they're going to start."

Indeed, the various random (and not terribly melodic) noises produced by an orchestra warming up had ceased, and the lights around the auditorium were starting to dim. The chatter among the audience died off as people settled into their seats with a last rustle of paper. Shishido slumped a little further into his own chair, crossing his arms over his chest and trying not to scowl.

It wasn't that he didn't like music, though he certainly didn't understand why people claimed to see images or entire stories in a bunch of notes strung together. And it wasn't that he didn't want to see Ohtori, because he _did_ , and he loved hearing the younger boy play.

Honestly, it was mostly that he'd developed a severe dislike for Amano, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. They hadn't exactly spent a great deal of time together, or really any since their 'discussion' in the library, but whenever they saw each other in the halls sparks flew. Which was a bit of an odd sensation, since the pianist was almost always in Ohtori's company, and the tall junior was being as icy as ever towards Shishido.

It hadn't taken much for Shishido to figure out that his first step needed to be an apology. A damn sincere one, at that. He wasn't naive enough to think that would be enough, but it might at least get Ohtori speaking to him again.

There was no way in hell he was going to do his groveling in front of Amano, though. He needed to get Ohtori alone, and considering the younger boy was pulling the same tricks Shishido had used to avoid _him_ , that was proving to be damn near impossible. He didn't think attending the concert was likely to garner him an opportunity, but Atobe had insisted that if he wanted Ohtori to believe he was sincere, he _had_ to attend.

As the first notes of the piece swirled up and out around the audience, Shishido tried to set his worries aside and just listen. He wanted to be able to honestly tell Ohtori later that he'd enjoyed the piece, at least.

He'd always thought it was just a little pretentious that Sakaki tended to have the orchestra play the pieces he'd written, instead of the usual classical stuff. After all, if the guy's music was all _that_ good, he'd remarked once to Ohtori after listening to a practice, why was he still a high school music teacher and tennis coach?

Ohtori had laughed and said that while Sakaki was certainly no Mozart or Beethoven (whoever they were), his music was fairly well suited to the level of the orchestra and did have the advantage of being able to showcase whoever was most talented among the students at the time.

Which, Shishido was once again reminded as the music picked up and the strings came in, was Ohtori and Amano this time around. The sweet strains of the lead violin soared up above the main theme, a poignant descant to the rest of the orchestra. The students were up on the stage rather than down in the pit since this concert was for them alone, and Shishido stared at Ohtori as the younger boy threw himself into his music.

He was hardly even aware of the piano line coming in and racing to catch up to the violin in a brief struggle for dominance. Then the fight was over, and they were flying together, supporting and encouraging each other to new heights. Shishido realized he was holding his breath only when his chest began to burn, and he released the air as quietly as he could.

He might not feel magic in music, might not see the pictures and stories, but even he couldn't be completely unmoved by this. He didn't know if Sakaki had truly outdone himself, or if Ohtori and Amano were just that damn good, but he privately didn't think the Hyoutei orchestra would ever be able to top this performance. The two juniors were putting everything they had into it, and it was... breathtaking.

When it was over, Shishido found himself on his feet applauding with everyone else, his hands stinging with how hard he was clapping. His breath was still a little tight in his chest, and he couldn't stop staring at Ohtori as the silver-haired boy stood, bowing to the audience to accept the accolades. Shishido was vaguely aware that Amano was doing the same over at the piano, but all his attention was fixed on the glowing, ecstatic look on Ohtori's face.

Beside him Jirou was bouncing and shouting his own cheers, the sound of his voice all but lost in the thundering ovation. Atobe was standing and clapping as well, though he appeared somewhat less swept away by the experience than his two friends. Well, as he'd been telling them on the way to the concert, Atobe had been exposed to the best music and musicians in the world since he was a child, so perhaps this was somewhat less impressive to him. It didn't matter to Shishido... all he really cared about what how it had made _him_ feel, and the triumphant look that was still plastered on Ohtori's face.

By the time the applause began to die down and people in the audience started talking, Shishido finally felt like he was able to breathe normally again. "Wow, that was _so awesome_ ," Jirou was exclaiming, eyes wide with as much excitement as he evidenced during only the most difficult tennis matches. "Atobe, Shishido, did you _hear_ that? Wasn't that _fantastic_? Wow, they're so amazing! I knew Ohtori-kun was good, but I didn't know he was _that_ good, did you? Wow!"

Laughing, Atobe reached out and ruffled Jirou's hair. "Calm down, Jirou. Yes, they were quite excellent, especially Ohtori and Amano. But we're not on a tennis court, and people are starting to stare."

Jirou's voice had carried even in the muffled acoustics of the audience area, designed to minimize the interference of crowd noise. Shishido looked back at the stage, expecting the sound of the familiar excited voice to have drawn Ohtori's attention, but to his dismay the junior was nowhere to be seen. He'd evidently been one of the first to leave the stage; as had Amano, Shishido noted with a sigh. So much for catching his former partner while the pianist was busy with his adoring fans. He'd been sort of hoping Amano would be the egotistical type and hang around basking in the attention and praise, but no such luck.

"I'm going backstage," Shishido announced, mouth set in a stubborn line that dared either of his two friends to tell him it was a bad idea. "I need to talk to him, damn it. To tell him how good that was, if nothing else."

"You'll hardly be able to get him alone," Atobe warned him with a raised eyebrow. "There will be musicians and well-wishers everywhere, and he and Amano will probably be staying together for pictures and such."

"I don't care," Shishido insisted. "You know what? Fuck it. At least in public he won't be able to make as much of a scene, and maybe it'll help me corner him where he can't get away." And maybe, if he could bring himself to do it, debasing himself in public would get through to Ohtori that he was deadly serious about making amends. He'd done as much to get his spot back on the team. Was his best friend and partner worth any less?

"Good luck, and tell him I thought he was wonderful," Jirou said, still grinning from ear to ear. "We'll wait outside for you - three's a crowd, and all." He blinked, and tilted his head. "Except there'd be four of us, if we all went back there. What does four make?"

"Two people too many," Atobe answered, as Shishido snorted in amusement. "Just be careful you don't push too far, Ryou. He's not going to forgive you all at once, assuming he forgives you at all."

"Small steps, I know," Shishido agreed. "I can handle it. I'll see you guys outside."

He started edging his way out of the row, sidestepping people who were slower to gather their things to leave. He stepped on more than a few toes, he thought, but he just muttered absent apologies and kept going. He wanted to get back there before Ohtori was totally overwhelmed with other well-wishers, or worse, before he left entirely.

Since he wasn't in the least reluctant to use elbows and judiciously applied force to get him through the crowds, he made it to the 'green room' area in good time. The place was swarming with music students putting away their instruments, family members come to dote on the students, and various assorted other people. Cameras were flashing everywhere, and he heard reporters trying to shout questions to Sakaki who was holding court in the center of the room.

No matter where he looked, though, he couldn't spot Ohtori. He tried asking a few of the students, but they just shrugged and shook their heads, saying they hadn't seen him since he and Amano had left the stage.

He was just about ready to give up, glumly concluding that the two stars of the show had made an early escape for some reason, when he happened to overhear a snippet of conversation between three girls that caught his attention.

"Where'd the lovebirds go? Everybody's asking for them," one of them grumbled as she cleaned her clarinet. Shishido felt his heart clench oddly at her choice of words; given the context, it wasn't hard to figure out who she was talking about. Gods, did Ohtori and Amano actually advertise their relationship? Granted, musicians were kind of expected to lean in that direction, but admitting it was another thing entirely!

"Who knows?" one of the other girls replied, rolling her eyes. Shishido did his best to blend into the crowd behind them, wanting to know more about what the other musicians thought of Ohtori. "Downstairs to the practice rooms, probably."

"Do they think the rest of us don't know what they're up to when they vanish like this?" the third giggled, twirling a cleaning rod in her fingers. "Seriously."

"I think the question is more, 'do they even realize anybody else exists'," the second one snorted.

"Only when we miss a note!" the first put in, laughing. "And then brrr, watch the temperature drop! I'm not sure which of them is worse; Ohtori's nicer about it, but he's better at the Ice Prince act than Amano. They're welcome to each other, I say. Anyone else would be frozen solid in a week."

"I don't know, I think it's an awful shame," the third sighed. "They're both _so_ gorgeous. And Ohtori's not as bad now as he was at the beginning of term. More like the way he was last term."

"Didn't I hear he had a thing going with someone in the tennis club last term?" the first asked, eyes shining. Shishido's breath caught as he realized they had to be referring to _him_. The music students thought he and Ohtori had been _together_? Was he the _only_ one who hadn't known about his partner's crush on him?

"Nah, I think that was unrequited," one of the others answered. "He was definitely nicer last term, though. Wonder why? You'd think actually getting some would make him happier."

Shishido's nails were digging into his palms, and he had to bite his lip to keep from interrupting as the third girl leaned in towards the other two. "Well, _I_ heard he had a really nasty break-up fight with the guy in the tennis club, and that's why Amano's so protective of him," she murmured, making the other two giggle. "Michiko told me he was totally heartbroken."

"So what's he doing with Amano, then?" the first asked. "He seems pretty happy to me."

"I guess he got over the first guy," the other shrugged, and they all giggled again. "Considering the way he and Amano are always..."

Shishido had heard enough. Swallowing the bile that was threatening to rise, he all but stormed out of the music room and down the hall. He didn't particularly want to hear about whatever it was that Ohtori and Amano were 'always...', nor did he want to _think_ about it. Jirou's confession that he occasionally thought of Shishido _that_ way had made Shishido re-evaluate a lot of the things that he'd believed had bothered him most about Ohtori's orientation, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear details!

He could make his apology to Ohtori later. The concert was traditionally held on the last day of the fall term; surely at some point in the next few weeks Shishido would be able to corner the junior at home to talk to him. Hell, he might even be able to enlist Ohtori's family's help, if he told them he was trying to make up for a fight he'd had with their son. For now, the only thing he wanted was to escape out into the cool night air, find Atobe and Jirou, and go _home_.

Unfortunately the halls were crowded with people, and everyone was talking about the two stars of the show. No matter which way he turned there were clusters of people blocking the halls, and he couldn't escape the repeated reminders of his former partner and the junior's boyfriend. Frustrated with his inability to get anywhere, he finally turned and took one of the side halls that led to the stairs. He could cut across on another floor and avoid the crush of people, then get out of the school on the other side.

Later he would never be sure if he'd honestly forgotten what the girls had said, or if it was some imp of the perverse in his subconscious mind that made him go down the stairs instead of up. The lower floor was as deserted as the upper ones would have been, just rows and rows of doors, placed much closer together than was normal for classrooms.

The placement of the doors puzzled him for a moment as he walked, until he remembered; these were the small, soundproofed individual practice rooms for the music students, not classrooms. The thought jogged his memory at the same time that he heard the sound of people murmuring from the door nearest him, and he froze.

Practice rooms. Ohtori and Amano. The 'lovebirds'... and what _did_ the rest of the orchestra think they were up to when they disappeared? Shishido really didn't want to know, but neither could he seem to convince his feet to move as the murmuring turned into a soft moan.

The door nearest him was open just a bit, though there was no light inside. The only illumination came from the dim lights in the hall where Shishido was standing, throwing most of the room beyond into deep shadow. When the occupants spoke again, this time Shishido was able to make out the words.

"We shouldn't be doing this." Shishido couldn't mistake that voice for anyone but Ohtori, even lowered and with an odd edge of strain in it. "They're going to come looking for us. I thought I heard footsteps."

"If they were looking for us, they'd have been calling our names," Amano replied, his voice a silky murmur in the darkness. "That's why we left the door cracked, remember? So we'd hear them if they called for us. Relax, Choutarou. I didn't hear anything, and even if there was someone out there, it was probably just some of the others looking for a private place to celebrate. Same as us."

"Kazuya..." the warning note in Ohtori's voice was swallowed by a sudden gasp, and another moan. Shishido's eyes were starting to adjust to the gloom, and he could make out the dim outlines of two people inside the room, pressed up tight against the wall. The barely open door gave him an odd view, since he was only able to see a thin strip of the two boys, but he could see enough to figure out what was going on, more or less.

The taller body was leaning against the wall like it was the only thing holding him up, and the shorter one was clinging to him like a leech. Given that Amano was even shorter than Shishido, it wasn't hard to tell who was who. The pianist shifted, and Shishido finally realized what was making Ohtori gasp like that; Amano had his hand down the other junior's pants.

Heart leaping wildly in his throat, Shishido told himself to run, get the hell out of there, or at _least_ back up quietly and retreat until he couldn't hear them any more. Let alone see them. Not only was this so _utterly_ none of his business, but the last thing he needed was to re-trigger his phobic reaction by actually getting an eyeful of the two in action.

He'd taken one cautious step backwards, not wanting to make noise and alert them that he was there, when Ohtori gasped again and shifted. The change in position put his face partly into the dim light from the hall, and Shishido froze again. He told himself it was just because he was afraid movement from him would attract Ohtori's gaze, but the truth was Ohtori's eyes were closed and he obviously wasn't paying attention to anything much other than what Amano was doing.

Which was... ohdeargods, he was unzipping Ohtori's pants, pulling them down far enough to free Ohtori's cock, and now Shishido could _see_ his pale hand moving over the paler flesh. Ohtori had thrown his head back, an expression of tortured bliss on his face as he clutched at the wall and Amano's shoulders.

Another step, and Shishido was pressed against the wall beside the door. At least that meant he wasn't an obvious silhouette in the hall lights should one of them happen to glance over, and now he could keep edging backwards and out of sight without attracting attention. Except his feet weren't moving. Why weren't his feet moving?

"C'mon, Choutarou, I want to celebrate," Amano was whispering slyly. "We've earned it. You were _so_ incredible up there. _We_ were so incredible. Let me make you feel as good as it made me feel to play with you like that." Ohtori moaned again, louder this time, a tacit invitation for Amano to continue that the pianist didn't hesitate to act on.

It took everything Shishido had to tear his eyes away from the expression on Ohtori's face. He was going to look _away_ damn it, not down, he was _not_ looking down hewasnotlooking...

 _Fuck_. Shishido bit down hard on a whimper of his own, tasting blood spilling into his mouth from where one of his teeth had pierced the flesh of his lip. All right, yes, he _was_ looking down and he _was_ totally fixated on watching the way Amano's hand was sliding slowly over the taller boy's cock and he _was_ reacting to the sight in a rather visceral way.

And that was... that was okay, right? Well, no, not even he could convince himself that it was 'okay' to be watching his best friend get jacked off by his boyfriend without the two of them being aware he was there, but... but it was okay that he was reacting. Right? Hell, after more than two months of frustration and endless cold showers, he'd probably be reacting to just about anything overtly sexual in nature. It didn't mean anything...

The rather ineffective attempt at convincing himself flew straight out the window when Amano dropped to his knees and took Ohtori into his mouth. The sounds Ohtori was making would have been enough to shatter Shishido's denial all by themselves, but the part that really struck him down was they way they _looked_.

Some quirk of fate had made Amano choose to pull his hair up into a high ponytail for the night, nearly identical to the hairstyle Shishido had once worn to play tennis. With the dim light hiding the lack of muscle tone and the green tint to Amano's hair, the junior suddenly eerily resembled Shishido himself, back before he'd cut his hair. Shishido's mind was more than happy to make the jump in imagination, picturing himself in Amano's place, making those soft sucking sounds and forcing those strangled noises out of Ohtori's throat.

The mental image had him so instantly, painfully hard that he throbbed with the force of it, and would have staggered if he weren't already leaning against the wall. Terrified he would make enough noise for the two in the room to notice him and be caught out, he turned and bolted for the nearest practice room behind him.

There were muffled exclamations of surprise and dismay, but Shishido (he hoped) reached the other practice room before the two juniors could gather themselves and their dignity enough to actually look to find out who had been watching them. Thankfully the door was unlocked; if it hadn't been Shishido thought he might have broken it down, or maybe just died of mortification on the spot when Ohtori realized he'd been standing there the whole time.

He slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, his breath harsh in the still air of the soundproofed room. Distantly on the other side of the door he could hear muffled footsteps and a familiar voice calling out, asking if anyone was there, but he knew they probably wouldn't go testing every door just to check. After all, Amano had been more or less right earlier - who else would be down here but someone else wanting privacy?

Unable to bear it a moment longer, Shishido slipped his hand down the front of his dress slacks and curled his fingers around his cock, hissing as the rough callous on his palm dragged against the sensitive skin. He beat himself off at a furious pace, quick harsh strokes that made him grateful for the soundproofing as his voice got out of his control.

It was the memory of a dark head bobbing over pale flesh and darker fabric that drove him; and, he couldn't deny it, his own imagination supplied hazy thoughts of what it would have been like if it _had_ been him and not Amano doing that to Ohtori. What it would have felt like, tasted like... how it would have sounded, to hear Ohtori crying his name in that breathless whimper...

He came hard, stifling his shout with his other hand, not sure the soundproofing would be enough to muffle _that_. He'd never quite believed all the stupid romantic crap about seeing stars or your vision going white as you came, but he definitely lost track of the world around him for a few moments there at the end. Shuddering with the force of it, panting and whimpering at every tiny bit of sensation on his now over-sensitive skin, Shishido leaned against the door and struggled for equilibrium.

Dearest fucking gods, he'd just watched his best friend getting a blowjob from another guy. He'd just _jerked off_ to a fantasy of his best friend getting a blowjob from _him_. What the hell was wrong with him?

The shivery sensation in his chest was choking him, and that roiling feeling in his gut was back. Only the sick feeling didn't seem as much like revulsion as he'd always told himself it did. It felt more like fear; the kind of devastating fear he'd felt when Tachibana had utterly destroyed him on the courts, and everything he'd ever believed about the world and about himself had been turned on its head.

That time, it had been the realization that his cocksure arrogance on the courts had been nothing but false pride that had torn him apart. The basis for his entire sense of self-worth, his prowess at tennis, had been stripped from him. He'd clawed his way back up from the depths, remaking himself in the fire of his determination not to remain fallen, but he was a very different person now than he had been then.

Leaning against the door, his fist covered with semen and still wrapped around his semi-hard cock, Shishido's whole body shuddered with dry sobs as he wondered how much of him was going to survive the epiphany this time.


	9. Chapter 9

The fresh, chilled air hit Shishido hard as he finally left the school building, and he paused to take a deep breath of it. His head was swimming, and he felt almost feverish. He couldn't seem to chase any one thought down long enough to focus on it, and it was nearly enough to make him dizzy.

Most of all, he was extremely grateful that Ohtori and Amano had left by the time he'd emerged from the practice room. Shishido had quickly made his way to a bathroom halfway across the school from the music department and cleaned himself up. There was no way in hell he could face Ohtori to apologize after what had just happened. He didn't particularly want to have to face Atobe and Jirou, either, but he'd arrived in Atobe's limo and the bus he normally took home from school didn't run at this hour.

Any hopes he'd been harbouring that his two friends wouldn't notice anything was wrong were shattered the moment Shishido came within sight of the limo. Jirou was still awake and bouncing, and _still_ chattering at top speed about how good the concert had been; Atobe was leaning against the side of the limo with his arms folded, occasionally nodding indulgently. When Jirou caught sight of Shishido he paused in mid-bounce, and landed rather awkwardly on flat feet.

"Shishido?" Recovering, Jirou ran towards him, his brown eyes big with concern. "Shishido, are you okay? You look like you're gonna be sick."

The thought had occurred to Shishido a few times, but it wasn't a physical illness that was plaguing him. "I'm fine," he said, grateful that his voice came out steady. "It's nothing, Jirou, don't worry about it."

"What happened?" the smaller boy persisted, trotting along beside him as he made his way to the car and Atobe. "Did you and Ohtori-kun get into another fight?"

Shishido paled further. "No. No, we didn't fight. I didn't even get a chance to talk to him." See him, yes, but he wasn't mentioning that part. _Hell_ no.

"Something happened," Atobe observed, his eyes narrowed. "But this isn't the place to discuss it. Get in the car, both of you. We'll talk on the way back to my house. I've already arranged with both your parents for you to stay the night."

If it had been anyone else, Shishido would have bristled at that. But he and Jirou had both learned long ago that there was no point in arguing with Atobe's high-handed manner; he just utterly ignored you and continued right on with whatever he was planning.

And really, Shishido didn't want to have to endure any well-meant concern from his family, either. Not that he particularly wanted to face the questions Jirou and Atobe were likely to throw at him, but he didn't seem to be able to avoid that.

Once they were all settled in the plush seats and the car was moving, Shishido braced himself for the barrage. To his surprise, when Jirou started to blurt out a concerned question, Atobe raised his hand and stopped the other boy. "Later, Jirou," Atobe murmured when Jirou and Shishido both gave him confused looks. "Let him recover a bit first, hmm?"

Shishido wasn't sure whether to be grateful or more nervous. Somehow he didn't think Atobe was protecting him entirely out of the goodness of his heart; more likely it was so his wealthy friend would have a chance to plan his own angle of attack.

With a sheepish grin at Shishido, Jirou just shrugged and went back to his original topic of conversation. Thankfully the other boy was more than capable of carrying on a conversation all by himself when he was this excited; all he needed was the occasional encouragement from Atobe and _some_ indication that Shishido was listening. It was hard enough to listen to Jirou babbling on about how wonderful Ohtori had been; he didn't think he'd have been able to come up with anything coherent to say on the subject had he been forced to participate.

His mind was still going around in little circles, like Pochi chasing her own tail. There was no way in hell he could continue to convince himself that he was completely unattracted to Ohtori, not after what he'd been thinking and feeling while watching the two of them. Not after what he'd been imagining while jerking off in that practice room. Even now, despite his guilt and shame, he felt his body stirring at the memory. He shifted uncomfortably on the seat and willed himself to think of something else.

There wasn't much else he could think of, though. His mind was quite firmly stuck on Ohtori, and his own feelings towards the younger boy. He just... he couldn't be gay. Could he? _Surely_ he'd have noticed some sign of it before this; he was fifteen, for crying out loud! And anyway, he was attracted to girls, even if he'd never yet met an individual one he was particularly interested in. He enjoyed the nude mags and had fantasies of pretty girls as often as the next guy. So he couldn't possibly be like that.

Only, Jirou had said he liked girls too, hadn't he? Was that really possible, to be interested in both? Why bother even thinking about guys, if you could like girls and didn't have to deal with the stigma?

"Jirou? How'd you know you were interested in guys?" he blurted out, cutting his friend off mid-word. For a moment there was stunned silence in the car, and he looked up to find both Jirou and Atobe staring at him.

Belatedly, it occurred to him that he'd just outed Jirou to Atobe. His eyes went wide in panic, and he turned to Jirou. "Oh gods, I'm sorry... _please_ tell me he already knew..."

Jirou's lips twitched, but it was Atobe who laughed. "Don't be foolish Shishido, this is _me_ we're talking about," he said, leaning back against the seat and crossing one ankle over his knee. "I probably realized what was going on before Jirou did. But yes, he told me some time ago."

 _Like the way you knew about me before I did?_ He couldn't quite face that thought though, even in the privacy of his own mind, so he ignored it. "Why'd you tell him and not me?" he demanded of Jirou, trying to hide the hurt that surged through him. Wasn't he just as much Jirou's friend as Atobe was? Had the two of them somehow gotten that much closer to each other when he wasn't looking?

"Because he already _knew_ , so I knew he wouldn't freak out," Jirou shrugged easily, perched on the edge of the seat next to Atobe. "I wasn't sure how you'd take it, so I didn't say anything." He looked briefly sad. "I didn't want to lose you. And if you'd found out about me before Ohtori-kun, it might have been me you were avoiding like that."

"I wouldn't have..." Shishido started to protest, but the looks on the faces of his two friends put him to shame. "Well, maybe," he admitted grudgingly. It _had_ been easier to accept the truth about Jirou because he'd already dealt with the greater shock of Ohtori liking _him_. "But I'd have gotten over it!"

"It doesn't matter now," Jirou asserted, shaking his head and grinning at him. "Now you know, and Atobe knows, and you're both still my friends and that's all that really matters." Shishido and Atobe both nodded, and Atobe reached out to ruffle Jirou's hair gently.

"You should answer his question, Jirou, it might help him," Atobe said. "However," he added quickly as Jirou opened his mouth to do just that, "We're almost to my home. It can wait until we all get up to my room so we won't be interrupted, and we'll have more privacy there anyway."

"Your room?" Shishido gave Atobe an amused look. "What, are we gonna have a slumber party like we did when we were kids?" Those were good memories; long weekend nights the three of them had spent piled together in Atobe's massive bed, making tents out of the blankets and having pillow fights, talking until they couldn't keep their eyes open any more and literally fell asleep mid-sentence. Sometimes Shishido thought those sleepovers had been part of the reason their friendship had stayed so strong for so long. He couldn't remember now exactly when they'd stopped, or why, but these days when they stayed over he and Jirou slept in rooms on either side of Atobe's.

"Why not?" Atobe asked archly, smirking back at him. "The bed is still big enough for the three of us. Unless you're afraid you'll have an embarrassing dream? It's still your turn."

Oh right, _that_ was why they'd stopped doing it. They'd hit puberty, and it had become... well, embarrassing. The first time it had been Jirou, because he was a good six months older than Atobe and Shishido. He hadn't really seemed to mind, just been a little bewildered by the whole thing. The second time it had been Atobe, however, and an embarrassed Atobe is a dangerous creature indeed. Shishido was just grateful it hadn't happened to him.

Eventually they'd gotten over the utter mortification and come to laugh about it, even teasing each other on occasion, like Atobe was doing now. But that had been a couple years ago, and he hadn't thought about it in a while.

Shishido flushed at the thought, and turned to stare out the window, shrugging. "Whatever," he muttered, though the very thought made his palms sweat. Considering everything that had happened tonight, it probably _would_ be him who would embarrass himself. But if he said he didn't want to, the others would tease him for _months_ about being shy or chicken.

"It's not a big deal," Jirou proclaimed, shrugging and yawning, his excitement apparently starting to wear off. "We probably _all_ will. We're fifteen. So who cares, right?"

Both Shishido and Atobe gave him wry looks for that. Then they caught each other doing it, and both started laughing. Trust Jirou to have such an odd, yet simple perspective on the whole thing. If it happened to all three of them, rather than all three of them being embarrassed, in his mind it was logical that therefore _none_ of them would be.

Hell, maybe he was even right. If they all did, none of them could point fingers, right?

Still, damn it, you weren't supposed to be willing to just let another guy see you in that state. It was embarrassing! One thing to talk and laugh about dreams you'd had, or look at magazines and pictures together, or just generally participate in locker room talk. But to actually witness your male friend in the midst of a dream like that, or the aftermath, it just wasn't done.

 _Kinda like it just isn't done to be thinking about your male best friend while you're dreaming... or jerking off?_ his mind taunted him, and he sank a little lower in his seat. His world had been a hell of a lot simpler four months ago. Why did life have to get so damned complicated?

Thankfully before one of the others could ask him about his renewed bad mood, the limo pulled to a stop in front of Atobe's house. Of course, Shishido belatedly realized as he climbed out of the car, that just meant he was that much closer to the moment when they started asking what had made him so upset in the first place. Stomach roiling, wondering if he dared ask to sleep in 'his' room after all, he followed Jirou and Atobe up the stairs.

"Oh, stop it Ryou, you look like we're dragging you to your execution," Atobe sighed in exasperation when he reached the top and looked back to see Shishido dragging his feet. "We're your friends, and we're supposed to be helping you, remember? We can't do that if you don't tell us what's going on. And while I will accept your word that you didn't speak to Ohtori, it's fairly evident that _something_ happened."

Well, that was true in principle, but Shishido _so_ did not want to talk about what had actually happened. "Look, I just... I ran across them, and they were kinda... occupied," he muttered as they all trailed into Atobe's sitting room, which connected to his bedroom. The blush on his cheeks was red enough to rival Mukahi's hair.

"Ohtori and Amano, you mean?" Atobe raised an eyebrow, and Shishido nodded miserably. He'd told them both about what Amano had said to him in the library, so it wasn't like they didn't know about the relationship. "I take it they weren't just kissing?"

Shishido nodded miserably. "Yeah, just a bit. I mean... not... they weren't... but it sure as hell was more than I ever wanted to see!" He shuddered at the memory, but it wasn't entirely revulsion.

Something must have shown on his face... or maybe it was his earlier question to Jirou that gave away his conflicted feelings. From the corner of his eyes he caught his two friends sharing another of those _significant glances_ that always pissed him off so much, but this time he just sighed.

"C'mon, Ryou, let's go to bed," Jirou said, wrapping his arm around Shishido's slumped shoulders and hugging him. "Keigo and I'll help you sort everything out. It's easier to talk about stuff like this in the dark in bed, you'll see."

Despite the fact that almost everybody called Jirou by his given name, the sleepy boy so rarely used anyone else's that it always felt strangely warming when he used Shishido's. He followed the gentle but insistent tug towards the bedroom, Atobe trailing after them looking both amused and concerned.

"Wait, how do you know it's easier to talk about stuff like this in bed?" Shishido balked abruptly, staring suspiciously at Jirou. The smaller boy laughed softly.

"Because that's how I told Atobe about me, of course," he said, shrugging. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." He cast a grin over Shishido's shoulder at their third friend, who was laughing softly.

"I knew something had to be up," Atobe said as he moved to his dresser and grabbed sleeping pants for all of them. "Not only did he call me and ask to sleep over, without you, and not only did he ask to stay in my room even though we hadn't done that in a year, but then he actually stayed _awake_ past the moment when his head hit the pillow."

Shishido had to laugh at that, though it was more a release of tension than anything else. They changed quickly, and he caught himself watching from the corner of his eyes to see if Jirou was watching him or Atobe. After all, if he were changing in a room full of girls, he'd be peeking. Didn't it stand to reason Jirou would in this situation?

He didn't, though. He just changed and hopped into the massive bed, snuggling into the down comforter with a happy little exclamation that made Atobe laugh again. Shishido followed more slowly, wondering what that meant. Maybe it meant Jirou _wasn't_ really interested in guys, but just thought he was? But why would he think he was, if he wasn't?

Gods, it was all making his brain hurt. Atobe climbed in on the other side after switching out the lights, putting Jirou between them, and it was as if several years suddenly dropped away and they'd never stopped doing this. Shishido grinned despite himself, listening to the noises of his two bedmates settling themselves.

"So how _did_ you know, Jirou?" he asked before the smaller boy could fall asleep.

"Mm?" Jirou made a sleepy noise, and yawned. "Well, it wasn't hard to figure out. Considering how often I was dreaming about you or Atobe. Or other cute guys. And then I asked Atobe to kiss me, just to be sure."

For a long moment Shishido's brain refused to process that, insisting that he _must_ have heard wrong. "You _what_?" he finally blurted out, staring.

"I asked Atobe to kiss me," Jirou repeated patiently. "To see what it was like. I figured if I wasn't really interested, it wouldn't feel like much."

"And you agreed?" Shishido asked incredulously, lifting up slightly on one arm to stare at Atobe over Jirou's body. Guys were not supposed to ask guys to kiss them. Not even Jirou, innocent naive little Jirou who could say things that would get anyone else killed. And guys were not supposed to _agree_ to kiss guys that asked them to!

"Well, I did warn him that it was hardly a fair comparison, since nobody else could possibly measure up to my skills," Atobe murmured, amusement clear in his voice. His eyes and teeth gleamed in the dim light as he smirked up at Shishido. "But he decided it was worth the possibility of being spoiled for anyone else."

Gaping, Shishido just kept staring for a long moment. "But, it was just an experiment, right?" he said, his voice coming out more plaintive than he'd meant it to. All right, Ohtori had a crush on him, he could accept that. Mostly. And okay, Jirou had thought of him that way, it was kind of flattering if more than a little weird. But Atobe too?

"Why?" Atobe asked, raising an eyebrow at him, his voice becoming even more smug. "Did you want me to kiss you too, to be fair?"

"You are such an asshole," Shishido replied, collapsing back down and wishing he could just smother himself in his pillow. Or maybe smother Atobe, that would work almost as well. "Is it something in the _water_? I mean, what the fuck?"

Jirou giggled sleepily, and Atobe laughed. "Does that mean you don't want me to?" Atobe asked, mock hurt in his voice. Shishido fished one of the smaller pillows out of the massive pile against the headboard, and flung it in Atobe's general direction.

" _No_ I don't want you to kiss me!" he all but howled, wanting to rinse his mouth out at the very thought. Kiss _Atobe_? Gods, it would be like kissing his brother. If his brother was an even more annoying, smug, pain in the ass than he already was.

"Too bad," Jirou commented from where he was snuggled into a pillow. "You don't know what you're missing. He's a _really_ good kisser." Then he chuckled. "Though he's right, I guess. You might be spoiled for anybody else if you try."

"Good thing for you I'm willing to keep indulging you, hmm?" Atobe asked, once again amused. Shishido thought he saw Atobe run his fingers through Jirou's hair, and a bunch of things _finally_ clicked for him.

"Whoa, hey, waitaminute," he protested, bolting upright and staring at them. " _How_ often exactly do you two do this?"

"Whenever I come over and you're not here," Jirou said, blinking sleepily up at him as if confused by the sudden outburst. Which, actually, he probably was.

"Honestly, Ryou, I've never met anyone as slow on the uptake as you," Atobe muttered, rolling his eyes. "It's not as if we've been hiding it, even if we haven't gone out of our way to make any announcements. At first I thought you were deliberately ignoring it to avoid causing problems in our friendship, until I realized you didn't have the faintest clue about Ohtori's crush on you either."

"It's the water," Shishido muttered again, flushing as he took in the way that Jirou was pressed rather closer to Atobe than he was to Shishido, and the way Atobe's hand rested lightly on Jirou's hip. "It's gotta be the water. In the showers or something."

"Nah," Jirou yawned and grinned at him. "It's something in the stuff they pave the courts with. Comes up in the air when you impact it. 'S why people like me'n Muhaki are more obvious about it... we're shorter, closer to the ground where it's stronger, and we spend a lot of time flat on our asses when we're practicing new moves."

That surprised Atobe into a laugh, and even Shishido smiled reluctantly. He found that his overwhelming emotion at the moment was _hurt_. The three of them had always been so close, had always done everything together. Granted, he'd been spending more time with Ohtori and less time with them last term, so he supposed he was at least partly to blame for the separation between them. But they were close now in a way he would never be with them, and he was jealous despite not being actually interested in either of them.

"Nothing's changed, Ryou," Jirou said softly, as ever the sensitive one of the three of them and the glue that held them all together. "We're just growing up, is all. We're still friends, that'll never change. And if you wanted to, you'd be welcome, right Keigo?" he glanced over his shoulder, and Atobe shrugged. "But we're not really the ones you want," Jirou concluded quietly. "Right?"

Shishido thought about the events of that night; how he'd felt watching Amano go down on Ohtori, how the look on Ohtori's face and the exquisite noises he'd made had affected him. He thought about the fantasy he'd jerked off to, and how many cold showers he'd taken lately to avoid exactly that situation. He thought about how much he hated Amano, even though the pianist was clearly a good friend and boyfriend to Ohtori, and made him happy.

He thought about how he would react if Ohtori came to him and asked to 'experiment' to find out if he was interested in boys. Four months ago it would have freaked him out past bearing. Now...

Now...

He sighed, and slowly settled back down, looking over at his two friends almost wistfully. "No, you're not," he agreed softly. There was nothing else he could say.


	10. Chapter 10

If there was one thing Shishido had never expected to be doing, it was standing outside Ohtori's front door trying to work up the nerve to ring the bell. And trying not to hyperventilate while he was at it.

It wasn't just that he'd never expected to _need_ to be this nervous about facing Ohtori, it was that he was unused to being this nervous about _anything_. He'd gone through most of his life with confidence in himself and his ability to win whatever he wanted. The only other time in his life that he'd been this nerve-wracked had been when he was facing Sakaki, begging for his spot on the team.

Well, there were a lot of parallels between that situation and this one. He'd fucked up, he'd learned his lesson the hard way, and now he had to somehow earn forgiveness he really had no right to. Winning Ohtori back as a friend was absolutely no less important to him than getting his spot on the team back had been.

And that thought alone would have told him how very important the junior had become to him, even if he hadn't had his comfortable state of denial forcibly ripped away from him.

Finally he took a deep breath and steeled himself. Reaching out, he punched at the doorbell almost viciously, listening to it echo inside the big house through the door.

After being friends with Atobe all his life Ohtori's family's wealth didn't exactly impress him, though he'd been a little startled the first time he'd visited his partner's home and realized how well off he was. Unlike Atobe, Ohtori never made a big deal about his circumstances, preferring to succeed based on his own merits.

There was no sound of a response for a good minute or two, and Shishido reached out to ring the bell again. Also unlike Atobe, Ohtori's family didn't keep live-in servants. It was possible nobody was home; he hadn't exactly called ahead, not wanting to warn Ohtori he was coming.

Just as he heard the sound of running footsteps from inside, it belatedly occurred to Shishido that not calling ahead also meant it was entirely possible that Ohtori _would_ be there - with Amano.

Before he could change his mind and bolt, the door flew open to reveal a rather breathless Ohtori, who was already apologizing before he actually realized who was standing there. "I'm sorry, I was in the back of the house and I didn't... hear..."

The junior trailed off and gaped at Shishido with wide eyes, his hand going white-knuckled on the doorway. If there was one person Ohtori had _not_ expected to find on his doorstep, it was his former doubles partner. For a long moment they just stared at each other, both of them trying to deal with the riot of emotions caused by confronting the other.

After a frantic moment, Ohtori finally managed to gather his scattered wits. He drew himself up to his full height and looked down at Shishido, pulling the icy demeanour around him that had always helped him in the past to deal with things that hurt him. "Was there something I can do for you, senpai?" he inquired, voice frosty but perfectly polite.

It had the intended effect; Shishido winced visibly. He couldn't remember Ohtori ever referring to him as just 'senpai' since Shishido had first asked for his help in training. It was a message as clear as a shout that Shishido no longer had any special place in Ohtori's affections; he was just another senior who had once been in the tennis club, one of literally hundreds.

"Choutarou..." his own voice was husky, struggling to hide both hurt and panic. He'd known this was going to be hard, but blessed kami he hadn't realized _how_ difficult it would be. Dealing with the 'Ice Prince' act up close and personal was much more painful than facing it from across a crowded hallway.

Hearing Shishido use his given name only made Ohtori's shoulders stiffen. The only person outside his family who called him that now was Kazuya, and it actually made him a little angry that Shishido still presumed that kind of familiarity with him. When the senior didn't seem about to continue, Ohtori chilled his voice a few degrees further and narrowed his eyes in warning. "If there isn't anything, I really have homework that I should be getting back to. If you'll excuse me." He started to shut the door, feeling oddly like he was severing the last vestiges of their relationship as he did so.

He wasn't the only one who felt that way. "No, _wait_!" Shishido cried, his hand shooting out to grab the edge of the door, preventing Ohtori from closing it all the way. They stared at each other again, frozen brown eyes to panicked blue, and Shishido swallowed hard. "Listen, I... I need to talk to you." Even as the words came out of his mouth, he was shaking his head. "No, that's not right, damn it. I need to _apologize_ to you."

Ohtori's tight grip on the door loosened somewhat in shock. If Shishido had ever apologized to _anyone_ , Ohtori certainly hadn't been witness to it. _Don't let him in, he's only going to hurt you again,_ the suspicious part of his mind whispered at him. Something about the sheer desperation in Shishido's eyes overrode his common sense, however, and he found himself reluctantly stepping back out of the way. "Come inside before the cat gets out," he sighed, raking one hand through his silver hair.

Torn between terror and hope, Shishido stepped inside and kicked his shoes off, letting Ohtori close the door behind him. He had no idea if Ohtori had meant for him to come any farther into the house than the genkan, but maybe if Shishido came in anyway, Ohtori would be too polite to just kick him out again.

"Is your family home?" he asked the younger boy awkwardly. _Is Amano here,_ was what he really meant, but he couldn't just come out and ask that. Thankfully, the taller boy shook his head.

"No, I'm alone for the day," Ohtori admitted, turning to go further into the house and gesturing for Shishido to follow him. If they were going to have this conversation - or perhaps 'confrontation' would have been a better word - he wanted to do it on _his_ ground. Since he'd turned away, he missed the flash of pure relief that flitted over Shishido's expression as the older boy trailed after him.

"You'll have to pass my greetings to them," Shishido murmured, sighing softly. He honestly did like Ohtori's family, and they'd seemed relatively fond of him on the occasions they'd met him. But all the same, he was just as glad they weren't here to overhear the shouting that was potentially going to result from this.

Ohtori was thinking much the same thing, if Shishido had only known it. He led the way up the stairs to his room even though the living room would have been more neutral territory, because he wasn't sure exactly when his parents or sister might be getting home. He wanted privacy for this.

Having Shishido in his room again after so many months of not even speaking to the older boy felt distinctly odd. Ohtori gestured for Shishido to precede him inside, then closed the door once he'd entered as well. Leaning against the wall next to the door, he folded his arms over his chest, as much to hide the trembling in his hands as to look disinterested. "So? Talk," he said flatly, his voice not warming in the least.

With a sigh, Shishido turned the desk chair around and collapsed down into it backwards, his arms hooked over the back. He was using it as a shield and he knew it, and moreover he knew Ohtori recognized it too. But it did make him feel a little better, so he clung to it. "You're not going to make this at all easy on me, are you?" he asked, a bit ruefully.

Eyes hardening, Ohtori gave him a disbelieving look. "Is there any possible reason why I _should_?" he snapped back, shifting his weight slightly. Did Shishido honestly believe he could just waltz in here talking about an apology - not even _giving_ one, just _talking_ about it - and Ohtori would revert to his previous hero-worshipping behaviour?

Looking back at him wide-eyed, Shishido sighed. "No," he admitted, his voice low and full of self-mockery. "I sure as hell can't think of any."

That startled Ohtori again, because he'd been expecting a very different reply. Blinking, he studied the older boy, and the outermost fringes of his icy demeanour began to thaw. Shishido looked miserable, to put it bluntly. The only other time Ohtori had ever seen him be so harsh on himself was immediately after he'd been dropped from the Regulars.

"So? Talk," he said again, but this time it was a bit less of a demand and a little more of an invitation.

Shishido took that as a good sign, and drew a deep breath. "Look, I was an idiot, okay? An idiot, and an asshole. And I'm sorry. Really, honestly sorry, Choutarou."

"Yes, you were," Ohtori agreed, eyes flashing dangerously and a hint of warning joining the ice in his tone. "I'm curious what made you realize it."

Trying not to flinch again - when had Ohtori gotten so good at making Shishido feel like something that had just crawled out from under a rock? - Shishido shook his head. "A lot of things. Mostly Atobe and Jirou, and my own damn mind finally catching up with my hindbrain." That won him a sardonic look from his former partner, and Shishido sighed. "It was a hell of a shock, you know? I freaked out. And you can't entirely blame me for that," he added, defensive. "I'd just had a hell of a bombshell dropped on me, damn it."

"I don't blame you," Ohtori informed him, his voice level but still not warming at all. "I never did blame you." Throwing blame around never got anyone anywhere, he'd learned a long time ago.

Hope blossomed in Shishido's face, and confusion. "You don't? But then why..."

"The fact that I don't blame you does _not_ mean that I forgive you," Ohtori cut in bluntly, his expression forbidding. "Not in the least. That I understand some of your reasons for doing it does not change the fact that your behaviour was hurtful, and rude, and totally unwarranted."

Shishido wanted to say something in response to that, to make some kind of defense for himself, but the words refused to come. Really, what could he say? Ohtori was right, he had been all of those things, and more.

It didn't matter that he couldn't speak, though, because Ohtori wasn't stopping. "Did you think you could come in here and apologize, and everything would be all right again?" the junior demanded, hands clenching into fists where they were tucked under his arms. "That all it would take was a few contrite words from you, and things would go back to the way they were before?"

"No!" Shishido burst out, half rising from the chair. "Gods, no. Choutarou, it's not... I didn't think it would be that easy, no." He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. He'd had all kinds of speeches planned out in his head, had thought he had every contingency covered and knew exactly what to say. All his polished words had flown right out of his head the moment Ohtori had opened the door, unfortunately.

"Look, it was hard for me, all right?" Shishido said, almost pleaded. He locked eyes with his former partner, and silently begged the younger boy for understanding. "I'd never... I tried to avoid thinking about that kind of thing as much as possible, you know? And then Atobe and Jirou said that stuff about you having a crush on me. And then _you_ admitted to it. No, let me finish, please," he added desperately when it looked like Ohtori was going to interrupt him with more angry words.

Reluctantly, Ohtori nodded and closed his mouth again. Shishido deserved at least a chance to get his 'explanation' all the way out before he started tearing into the senior, he supposed. If nothing else, it would give him further ammunition if he knew exactly where Shishido's perceived weaknesses on the matter were. Not that long ago, Ohtori would rather have died than ever cause his partner any pain. Now, he was badly hurt enough to be more than willing to lash out and deal some hurt in return, given the chance.

"The thing that took me a long time to realize was what _really_ bothered me most about the whole mess," Shishido continued, each word dragged from him by sheer effort of will. He hadn't yet admitted the truth out loud, not even to Atobe and Jirou. Not even to himself, not in so many words. But he had to say it now, he knew, if he was ever going to have a chance to repair the damage he'd caused. There couldn't be any more secrets between them.

"Which was?" Ohtori prompted him when Shishido paused to gather himself for the final confession.

"The way it made _me_ feel to know you thought about me that way," Shishido forced the words out, ducking his head and lowering his eyes to stare at Ohtori's feet. A painful blush stained his cheeks, and his hands were white-knuckled on the back of the chair. "I thought I was _straight_ , damn it. I wasn't ready to deal with the idea that I was capable of thinking about another guy like that. When you confessed I was a lot happier about it than I could face acknowledging, and so I refused to recognize it. I panicked, completely and utterly. I pushed you and it and everything about it away from me, as far as I could get, like I hoped if I could just avoid it long enough I wouldn't have to deal with it. It's that simple."

The words hit Ohtori like lead shot to the stomach, and his breath caught in his throat. Gods, how often had he dreamed about Shishido saying something like that to him? How many times had he fantasized confessing his feelings, and having Shishido admit to being happy to hear his confession?

But it was too little, too late. _Far_ too late. He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "So, what? I hope you didn't expect me to fall at your feet with gratitude. For one thing, I've gotten over you. I was more or less over you by the time your birthday came around, and even if I hadn't been your subsequent behaviour would have severely disillusioned me."

He narrowed his eyes, and dared Shishido to try to argue with him. "For another," he added coldly, "I already _have_ a boyfriend. One who has never yet caused me to feel even a fraction of the pain and anguish you put me through. All I ever really wanted from you was your friendship. I was more than happy with that. Do you have any idea what it made me feel like when you just suddenly cut me out like that?" He took a step away from the wall, shaking with emotion that he refused to allow into his voice. "After _promising_ me that things would be better between us?"

"I know." The simple words shouldn't have been able to contain such a wealth of hurt and regret, but the sound of it stopped Ohtori in his tracks. Miserably Shishido lifted his head again, and looked the younger boy right in the eyes. "I know," he repeated. "I didn't come here expecting to find a quick fix to things. And I know you're with Amano." He couldn't quite keep the snarl out of his voice, but he cleared his throat and hurried on.

"I'm glad he makes you happy, really I am. Choutarou, the only thing I came here for today was to apologize, and tell you that I _know_ what an ass I've been," Shishido concluded, grimacing. "And to find out if there _is_ anything, _anything_ , that I can do to start to make it up to you." He looked up at the taller boy, his expression becoming pleading again. "I miss you like hell. As a friend, and a partner. Please, Choutarou. Tell me what I can do."

"I'm not sure there _is_ anything," Ohtori admitted, his voice thick with emotion. The ice was cracking, unable to bear up under the intense pressure from within him. He struggled to hold on to it. As long as he kept the ice around him, he couldn't be hurt further. If he lost it, he would be vulnerable again.

Abruptly Shishido stood from the chair, and walked around in front of it. When he was just a few feet from Ohtori, he dropped to his knees, putting his hands on the floor in front of him and bowing until his head nearly touched them. Ohtori stared in utter shock as Shishido murmured, "I can't even begin to apologize enough, Choutarou. But I'll try. I'll keep trying as long as you want me to. I'll beg if that's what you want. Anything. Just please give me another chance."

Staring down at him, Ohtori's lower lip trembled slightly. He bit down hard to stop it, and tasted copper in his mouth as his lip stung beneath his teeth. Only once before had he ever seen Shishido debase himself like this. He'd never thought he would see it again. Certainly not for the sake of _his_ forgiveness.

Did his friendship really mean that much to the senior? Granted this wasn't as public as his begging to Sakaki had been, but Ohtori had the odd feeling that the setting wouldn't have mattered in the least. Shishido looked and sounded deadly serious.

"Anything?" he found himself repeating, tasting the word like it was foreign. Shishido's back was one long line of tension, and Ohtori could almost see ghost images of the long hair that had fallen over the senior's face the last time he'd been in this position. The memory gave him an inkling of an idea.

"Anything," Shishido confirmed, daring to turn his head enough to peek up at his former partner. The younger boy looked more thoughtful than angry now, and he thought that was a good sign. "I'd cut my hair again, but I think the symbolism of that was kinda used up the first time around," he offered with a weak grin. "Besides, there's not much to cut yet."

Despite himself, Ohtori was startled into a brief laugh. "No, I don't think that would work a second time," he agreed. "It wouldn't be nearly as dramatic this time."

Considering the prone form before him, he finally came to a decision. "You said you'd do anything. I once felt the same about you. I offered to give up my spot on the team for you, do you remember?"

"How could I forget?" Shishido replied softly, his heart clenching at the memory. When Sakaki had scathingly asked if Ohtori would be willing to give up his place on the Regulars so Shishido could return, he'd nearly died on the spot. The idea of anybody _willingly_ giving up his spot had been incomprehensible to him, let alone the thought of doing it for someone else's gain.

When Ohtori's soft but firm "I wouldn't mind," had registered, he'd all but choked on his own tongue. He'd decided then and there that he _would_ make it up to the junior for everything he'd put him through, no matter what it took. And their friendship and partnership could be argued to have its true inception in that moment.

"Would you do the same for me?" Ohtori asked now, his voice giving nothing of his feelings away. Shishido sat up enough to look up at him, obviously confused. "If I asked it of you, to prove how serious you are, would you give up your place on the team for me?"

"But I'm not on the team any more," Shishido protested, frowning. "How can I give up something I don't have?"

"What if I told you to not join the club in high school?" Ohtori asked, staring down at him. "You want to play with me again? Fine, you can play with me. And _only_ me. Would you do it?"

Understanding dawned, and Shishido took a deep breath. "Yes," he said, without the slightest hesitation. He looked at the surprise in Ohtori's eyes, and repeated the word more firmly. "Yes. Hell yes. If that's what it takes, I'll do it. I'll write a letter to the coach telling him not to bother recruiting me." He grimaced slightly, his mind racing over the ramifications. Atobe would _kill_ him, and Jirou was going to make those big, disappointed eyes at him that both Shishido and Atobe had such a difficult time resisting. The thought of not being able to compete in high school was painful, but if that was what Ohtori required before he would consider trying to repair their friendship, he'd throw it all away without a second thought. "Hell, I'll call Atobe right now. If that's what you want, Choutarou."

He reached into his pocket, fishing for his phone, and Ohtori let out an almost explosive breath. He really would do it, the junior realized, not without a sense of awe. Shishido truly was going to give up his dream of playing tennis in high school, of returning to the Nationals once more. Ohtori knew how very much that dream meant to the senior; they'd talked about it often enough.

Dropping to his knees in front of the older boy, Ohtori reached out and caught his hand before he could turn his phone on. "Don't," he said, his voice cracking. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Don't, you don't have to call him. I'll play with you."

"But..." Shishido stared at him, confused again. "You said..."

"Yes, well." Ohtori shook his head slightly, and from somewhere the barest ghost of a smile played over his lips. "I didn't end up having to give up my spot, did I? I'll play with you again, Shishido-san. You don't have to give up your chance at the team."

Belatedly Shishido realized that Ohtori had been bluffing, that it had all been a test. Drawing a deep breath, he leaned back on his feet, trying to still the trembling in his hands so Ohtori wouldn't feel it. "You bastard," he said, though there was no real venom in his voice. "To think I once thought you were the nicest guy in the whole damn club."

"Don't think this means all is forgiven and forgotten," Ohtori warned him, dropping his hand when it was evident Shishido wasn't going to try to call Atobe. His brown eyes flashed, and not all the ice was gone yet. "I'll play with you, but you're going to have to _earn_ your way back into being my friend. And it won't be easy." He glared at the older boy. "You broke my trust in you. You're not going to get that back in a day, or even a month. Understand me?"

"I understand," Shishido nodded, trying not to feel disappointed. In truth, it was more than he'd expected to get. It was a chance. He just had to make sure he didn't screw up _this_ time. "I understand, Choutarou, I promise." It finally occurred to him that he was being awfully familiar to someone he no longer had the right to call 'friend'. "Uh. Ohtori. Ohtori-kun. Damn it."

Closing his eyes briefly, Ohtori reached for calm. He stood, looming over Shishido once more. "Choutarou is fine," he said with a sigh. "I think it would be too weird to have you call me anything else. Just don't make the mistake of thinking it means I've forgiven you."

"I won't," Shishido promised fervently, scrambling awkwardly to his feet. "You won't regret this, Choutarou. I swear it. I'm going to make it up to you, and I'm going to find a way to earn back your friendship it if kills me. You'll see." Tilting his head, he asked hopefully, "You want to go play a game? We've got a couple months until the non-school tournaments start, but it's probably going to take us that long to get our combination back in shape. There's an indoor court near here, right?"

"Yeah, there is," Ohtori agreed, considering the idea. He _did_ have homework, but it was the middle of winter break, it could wait. Kazuya was away with his family for the week, visiting relatives, so he wouldn't be breaking any prior plans with his boyfriend. He hid a grimace at the thought of the pianist's likely reaction to finding out that Ohtori was playing with his former partner again, but he'd deal with that after the other boy got back. Kazuya was terribly protective of him, and while it was endearing, it could also occasionally get irritating.

"All right," he finally agreed, offering Shishido a cautious smile. "We'll go practice."

In that moment they were both thinking more or less the same thing, the beginning of the return of the synchronicity between them. _And maybe, just maybe, this won't have such a bad ending after all._


	11. Chapter 11

"Remind me again why you think it's a good idea to give this asshole _another_ chance to break your heart?" Amano was curled up on the corner of the bed, leaning against the wall, a sheaf of music paper in his lap. He wasn't paying any attention to his half-finished music class assignment, however; his silver eyes were fixed on Ohtori in an expression perilously close to accusation.

Sighing, Ohtori pulled his racquet out of his bag and inspected it. "Kazuya, we've been over this," he said patiently for at least the twentieth time that weekend. "I'm just going out to play tennis with him. That does not constitute 'giving him another chance to break my heart'. It's just a game, just practice."

The strings were tight enough, but the grip was looking a bit frayed. He started picking the tape off, stripping the handle so he could redo it. He didn't look back over his shoulder to meet his boyfriend's eyes; he already knew what he'd see there.

"What happened to you swearing you were never going to speak to him again?" Amano demanded, and Ohtori could _feel_ him trying to stare holes into his back. The taller boy sighed, and fished a roll of grip tape out of the bag.

"That was before he came to beg for forgiveness," Ohtori replied. He wrapped the new tape smoothly around the bare grip with practiced twists of his wrist, listening to the odd squeaking sound the tape made. "I never expected him to go that far." His eyes softened at the memory.

Abandoning all pretense of concentrating on his homework, Amano shoved the papers aside and moved to perch on the edge of the bed next to Ohtori. "After everything he did to you, how can anything be enough to make you forgive him? I saw how badly he hurt you, Choutarou." He reached out and placed one hand on Ohtori's shoulder, squeezing gently.

With another sigh, Ohtori stopped winding the tape and turned to him. "I haven't forgiven him," he told his boyfriend seriously. "I haven't even begun to forgive him. But Kazuya," he bit his lip and shook his head. "You weren't there, you didn't see him. He was seriously willing to give up playing for the school in high school, if that was what it took to get me to talk to him again."

"How do you know he wasn't just calling your bluff?" Amano persisted, concern joining the accusation in his eyes. "You're too nice for your own good sometimes Choutarou, and he's got to know you well enough to realize that. Maybe he knew you wouldn't make him go through with it."

Stubbornly, Ohtori shook his head again. "No. He really was going to do it. Remember, I've _seen_ him in that position once before. I know what it looks like when he really is willing to do _anything_ to get something that means that much to him." There was still a hint of awe in his voice as he thought about it. "And the only other thing he's ever been willing to beg for was exactly the thing he was ready to give up for me." He gave the smaller boy a helpless look. "How could I not at least give him a _chance_ to make things right, after that?"

"I still think you're crazy," Amano said, scowling as he stood to pace. He'd said the same thing repeatedly over the weekend, ever since Friday night when his family had returned home and Ohtori had called to tell him what had happened. Ohtori had come to spend the night in the hopes of reassuring his boyfriend that he was _not_ in any way returning to his infatuation with Shishido, but it didn't seem to be helping.

"So you've said," Ohtori replied, trying to make it a joke. His voice came out sounding more weary than amused, however, and he grimaced. Honestly, he appreciated his boyfriend's worry over him. Many people in their class thought Amano was cold and unfeeling, but Ohtori knew it was just that the pianist felt _so_ deeply about the people he cared about, that he was scared to let himself connect to most people. His fierce protectiveness of Ohtori was just an example of that. But it did get wearing after a while.

"I just don't want to see you hurt again, damn it!" Amano exclaimed, turning back to him in frustration. "Gods, Choutarou, I thought you were never going to get over him last time. I don't want to see you go through that again!"

A pang of guilt went through Ohtori, and he set the half-finished racquet aside and stood. The 'last time' had been after Shishido's birthday, and a lesser person than Amano would have left Ohtori then. After all, they'd already been going out for two weeks at the time, and Ohtori had been assuring the pianist that he no longer harboured any feelings for his doubles partner. His heartbreak when Shishido had completely cut him out had put the lie to his words, however, and he'd been horribly sure he was going to lose Amano as well. Who wanted a boyfriend who was pining after someone else?

Amano had stayed with him, though. He'd never wavered, just held Ohtori through the worst of it and assured him over and over that it was Shishido's loss, and not something _he_ was responsible for. Ohtori didn't think he'd have gotten over the emotional agony of it nearly as quickly without the pianist's help; hell, he'd probably _still_ be crying himself to sleep at night over his former partner.

His boyfriend deserved so much more from him than Ohtori could ever hope to give him. He certainly didn't deserve to have to worry about Ohtori going back to Shishido, but who could blame him for feeling that way? Though neither of them had ever said anything out loud, they both knew that if Shishido had shown any sign of returning Ohtori's feelings immediately after his confession, it would be the senior that Ohtori was with now.

How could he not be worried that the same thing was still true, and Ohtori agreeing to play with Shishido was just the first step in the senior wooing him away? No, Ohtori didn't blame Amano in the least for feeling insecure. All he could do was try to answer that fear as best he could.

Reaching out, Ohtori caught the smaller boy's shoulder in one hand, using the other to tip his chin upwards. Staring down into half-panicked silver eyes, Ohtori firmly declared, "You don't have to worry, Kazuya. He is not going to hurt me like that again. He can't."

"How do you _know?_ " Amano insisted, staring back up at him, his lips a thin white line of tension. "Damn it, Choutarou, maybe he's willing to give things up now to be with you again, but what happens the next time something frightens him? How can you possibly be so sure that he won't hurt you again?"

"Because he can't," Ohtori replied, his voice soft but steady. "He _can't_ , Kazuya." Silver eyes looked up at him in incomprehension, and he shook his head. "He _can't_. Because he doesn't have that kind of power over me any more." He gave his boyfriend a wry grin. "The only person with that kind of hold on me now is you. So stop worrying. At the moment Shishido-san is nothing more than my doubles partner. At best, in time he might be a good friend again, but that's going to be a long time in coming."

This time it was Amano's turn to reach out, as he wrapped his arms around Ohtori's waist and leaned his cheek against the taller boy's shoulder. "I'm sorry," the pianist apologized softly. "I know I must be driving you nuts. I just can't bear to see you hurt like that again. I love you, Choutarou."

"I know." Ohtori nuzzled into the dark, silky hair, breathing in the scent of the shampoo the smaller boy favoured. "I care about you too," he replied softly. His words weren't as strong as Amano's declaration, and he'd never yet been able to use words that strong. He was too skittish, after what had happened with Shishido. But that didn't make what he felt any less real, and words weren't all that important anyway. What was important was what Ohtori _did_ , and he wasn't going to do anything that would make Amano doubt his feelings.

Glancing at the clock over Amano's shoulder, Ohtori winced. "I have to go, or I'm going to be really late," he declared, pulling away a bit. Before the smaller boy could protest or pout at him, he leaned down and kissed him swiftly. "Stop worrying," he commanded firmly, stepping back and reaching down to grab his racquet. Quickly he finished winding the tape, and squeezed it a couple times to check the feel of the grip. Satisfied, he shoved it back in his bag.

"Just be careful," Amano pleaded with him one last time as he prepared to go. "And call me when you get home, okay? I want to hear that everything went all right."

"I will, but don't expect it to be soon," Ohtori warned him as his boyfriend walked him to the front door. At Amano's sideways look, he shrugged and elaborated, "Considering how badly out of practice we both are, we're probably going to be playing all afternoon. Just think of how long you and I would need to practice, if we hadn't touched our instruments in months."

Amano grimaced at the very thought, and Ohtori laughed. They'd reached the door, and he shoved his feet into his court shoes, bending down to tie them quickly. "Stop worrying," he commanded once more, still laughing. "I'll talk to you tonight." Glancing around to make sure none of Amano's family were in sight, he leaned in for one more quick kiss, and then he was on his way out the door.

Once outside, he took a deep breath and enjoyed the way the chilly air burned his throat on the way down. The winter sun wasn't strong enough for him to actually feel it, but it was shining brightly, the dusting of snow on the ground just enough to reflect the light back at him and make him squint. Shifting so his bag was more secure on his shoulder, Ohtori broke into a jog and was surprised to realize he had a rather stupid grin on his face.

He hadn't been this happy in a long time. Even if his relationship with Shishido was strictly professional right now, there was still the possibility that it could repair itself further. He was playing tennis actively again, something he hadn't realized how much he'd missed until Shishido had apologized to him last week. His music was better than ever thanks to the way he'd had to push himself to keep up with Amano's sheer talent, and instead of pining away over an unrequited crush, he had a loving boyfriend. Other than the still somewhat rocky relationship with Shishido, Ohtori couldn't think of a single thing in his life that he would want or need to improve.

By the time he reached the building that housed the indoor courts near where he lived, the burn in his lungs and legs was starting to get to him. He paused outside the door, walking slowly back and forth as he panted to get his air back. Grimacing, he stretched out a muscle that was threatening to cramp in his calf. He was sorely out of condition, and it was really showing in his games with Shishido. He still believed leaving the tennis club had been the right decision for him to make, but he obviously needed to spend more time making sure he didn't get entirely out of shape.

Once he had his wind back he made his way inside. Reassuring Amano had taken him a while, and for once he was the one who was late to meet Shishido instead of the other way around. Although, he admitted with an amused grin, Shishido had obviously been making an extreme effort to get to all their arranged meetings on time.

This would be the fourth time they'd played since Shishido had apologized a little over a week ago. Ohtori had the feeling Shishido would have been happy to suggest playing ever day, the way they'd done over the last school break, but Ohtori had been too wary to agree to that. He didn't want to rush into this, or try to act like nothing had changed and they could just return to their previous behaviour patterns. He'd meant what he said about Shishido having to earn his trust back, and he didn't want _either_ of them to forget it.

Shishido was already waiting for him in the court they'd reserved, hitting a ball repeatedly against the wall. He turned as the door opened, and offered Ohtori a grin. "Hey, Choutarou! What'd you do, sleep through your alarm?"

"Unlike some people, I'm not inclined to sleep in past lunch even if I don't set an alarm," Ohtori replied with a small smile in return. "I got into a conversation with Kazuya that turned out to be longer than I'd expected, that's all. I'm sorry for being late."

He didn't miss the hint of shadow that flickered through Shishido's dark blue eyes at his boyfriend's name, but the older boy only laughed and shrugged. "Can't be helped, I guess," Shishido commented easily, and only someone who knew him as well as Ohtori would have been able to read the hidden resentment in his eyes.

It wasn't the first indication he'd had that Shishido didn't like his boyfriend. Ohtori ignored this one as he had ignored all the others, dropping his bag on the bench beside the court and fishing for his racquet instead. It was odd to have their positions so thoroughly reversed; not only was Shishido now the one who had to go seeking him, but now it was Shishido harbouring the unrequited feelings for Ohtori. Small wonder he resented Amano; the pianist both 'stole' Ohtori's time from him, and was the recipient of the taller boy's affections.

It didn't take much to get Ohtori to admit to himself that he'd have been far more than just 'resentful' if Shishido had been the one to start going out with someone, last term. Given the senior's temper, Ohtori was actually a little surprised that resentment was all he had to deal with. Well, Shishido knew full well that he had only himself to blame for losing his chance with Ohtori, and what was more, he knew that Ohtori knew it too.

In some ways he was glad that the tables had been turned, that Shishido was now feeling some of the pain _he'd_ gone through. Perhaps it was petty of him, but Ohtori couldn't help feeling a bit vindicated. It did make him inclined to be just a bit more forgiving, though, because he knew exactly how much Shishido was suffering right now.

Once he'd gotten over his denial of his own feelings, the senior had made no real attempt to hide the way he felt about Ohtori. At the same time, however, he'd never done or said a single thing to push his feelings on the younger boy, something Ohtori was grateful for. It really was an exact reversal of their previous relationship, except that they weren't nearly as close and Ohtori was aware of how Shishido felt.

"You ready?" he asked as he shoved some balls in his pockets and moved to one end of the court. Shishido nodded, twirling his racquet on the end of his finger as he waited for Ohtori to get into position. "Are we playing a game, or just rallying for a while?" the younger boy wanted to know.

"Let's just rally for a while, until you're warmed up," Shishido replied, dropping his racquet and catching it neatly by the grip. "I think I want a bit more warming up myself before I have to face that damned serve of yours."

Laughing, Ohtori sent one of the balls over the net in a relatively easy feed, and they started the rally.

By the end of the time they'd reserved the court for, they'd played three full games and run through a tonne of exercises, and they were both panting and dripping with sweat. Ohtori had often heard sub-Regulars and non-Regulars in the tennis club complain about Atobe's 'brutal practices', and about Hiyoshi's as well after the seniors had retired. What none of them had ever seemed to understand was that you didn't _get_ to be a Regular unless you were willing to drive yourself that hard, and then some. And if he and Shishido wanted to get their game in shape to have any hope of winning tournaments, they had a hell of a lot of work to do.

They _were_ improving, though. As he drained his water bottle, Ohtori glanced over to see Shishido doing the same, and smiled internally. They were starting to get their rhythm back, and more importantly, their synchronicity. One of their practice rounds had been a 'match' against the wall, using only half the court and playing in doubles formation. They'd improved a great deal since that last disasterous game with Atobe and Jirou.

"Well, we still suck, but at least we're not utterly pathetic any more," Shishido commented, echoing Ohtori's thoughts. The senior dumped the rest of his water over his head, and Ohtori briefly wished he hadn't drunk all of his so he could do the same. They were both flushed and overheated.

"We really need to do some endurance training, though," he commented ruefully, handing the older boy a towel before he could ask for it. "You're going to have to start playing three set matches next year, and it certainly couldn't hurt me to train for that a year early."

"Be interesting to see how people like Mukahi deal with having to play three sets," Shishido snickered, shaking his head to rid his hair of the worst of the water before rubbing the towel briskly over it. "He gets exhausted by the end of one set, sometimes. Damn, I wish you were in my year. It's a pain that we have to wait two years to play together again."

"Only in school tournaments," Ohtori reminded him. "There are still plenty of independent tournaments for us to sign up for. And we won't have to worry about our team losing even if we win, in those."

"True enough," Shishido agreed, tossing the towel back to him and shoving his racquet back into his bag. "You want to grab dinner? School starts again next week, we need to work out some kind of practice schedule. I've got entrance exams to study for, and you've still got music and stuff, right?"

The invitation was casual; a little too carefully casual, and Ohtori could see the tension in Shishido's shoulders though he did his best to hide it. So far their only contact had been tennis, and Ohtori hadn't been encouraging anything further.

On the other hand, Shishido was right that they needed to work out some kind of schedule if they didn't want to end up ignoring each other by accident again. And... maybe it was time, to take that next step. If he wanted them to have any chance at regaining more than just their partnership, he couldn't keep things strictly tennis-related forever.

"Yeah, sure," he said, and saw some of the tension leave Shishido. Though he reminded himself to stay wary, Ohtori couldn't quite keep the smile off his own face as he added, "The usual place?" When they practiced near Ohtori's house in the summer, they'd often gone to a ramen stand nearby. Returning there now after so long away would feel odd. He hadn't yet taken Amano there; it had felt wrong, somehow. As wrong as bringing Shishido to the concert hall he and Amano went to most weekends would have been.

The club that had the indoor courts also had change rooms available, and both Ohtori and Shishido grabbed the chance for a quick shower and change of clothes. On previous days they'd met to play they'd been going straight home after so it hadn't mattered, but if they were going out to a restaurant, neither of them wanted to stink of sweat.

If it had been a few months ago, Ohtori would have been sneaking little peeks in the shower room; scolding himself the whole time for doing it, but unable to resist the temptation to add fodder to his fantasies. He'd always been careful not to go into the showers at the same time as Shishido during club practices, so he wouldn't be caught looking.

It was the first time they'd showered together since starting to play again, and Ohtori was a little dismayed to realize he was still tempted to peek. It was easier to resist the temptation now, but the urge was definitely still there. Well, he finally consoled himself, it wasn't as if Shishido was any less physically attractive now than he had been three months ago. Even if Ohtori had gotten over him, he _was_ still very hot. And Ohtori _had_ successfully resisted the temptation, that was the important part.

He finished first; Shishido had always liked longer showers than he did, even after the senior had cut his hair. He wrapped his towel around his waist and headed back into the change rooms to dress and wait for the older boy. As he passed by Shishido, however, he was startled to feel that the spray misting over him from that direction was ice cold.

Without meaning to he looked over at the older boy. Shishido was facing away from him, leaning under the spray with his forearms against the wall. Despite the obviously frigid water, Ohtori could tell the senior's cheeks were flushed.

Swallowing, he jerked his gaze away again and hurried into the change room, grateful Shishido's eyes had been closed. He'd been in exactly that position too many times not to realize what must have happened; he hadn't always been _successful_ at avoiding showering at the same time as his partner, after all.

The knowledge that Shishido had been looking at _him_ , and been flustered enough by it to need to turn the water to ice, flustered Ohtori in turn. He changed quickly, hoping his blush would fade by the time Shishido emerged. _Why couldn't he have realized he felt this way before?_ he silently demanded of the universe. _Like at his birthday party, or better yet, before I'd even met Amano?_

It didn't matter, he reminded himself fiercely. None of it mattered now, because Shishido _hadn't_ realized, and Ohtori _was_ over him, physical attraction issues not withstanding. And he was _happy_ with Amano, damn it.

Well, in all honesty, he would probably always hold a certain amount of regret over losing his chance at Shishido, not to mention curiosity about what it might have been like. That was natural enough. It didn't change the way things were, though, nor the fact that when it came right down to it Ohtori _was_ happy with things as they were.

He'd managed to control his blush by the time Shishido emerged, and of course it helped that the older boy was obviously too embarrassed to look at _him_. Ohtori obliged him by fussing with the lace of his right shoe, which was fraying and threatening to snap. It took him a couple minutes to relace it with a spare lace he kept in his bag, and by the time he was done Shishido was leaning against the wall and looking at him again.

Glancing up, he noted the faintest traces of a blush still on Shishido's cheeks, but wisely chose not to think about it, much less comment on it. "I'm ready if you are," he said instead, swinging his bag up onto his shoulder.

Their eyes met for a moment, and a brief understanding passed between them. _I'm not going to say anything if you don't._ Then Shishido turned away with a slightly awkward shrug and a laugh that was only a little strained. "C'mon, lets go find out if our ramen guy is still there in the winter."


	12. Chapter 12

Leaning back in his chair, Ohtori stretched his arms up over his head, reaching up until a couple of vertebrae popped in his neck and upper back. Sighing as some of the strain on his shoulders and neck was relieved, he dropped his arms again. He'd been studying for _hours_ , ever since he'd gotten home from his latest practice match with Shishido. He hadn't even taken a break for dinner, just run downstairs to make a couple sandwiches and bring them back up to his room.

Well, this was what he got for spending pretty much every waking moment either playing with Shishido or training on his own, or practicing music, or just spending time with his boyfriend. While he and Amano sometimes studied together, they tended to get distracted easily.

The exams for this term were coming up fast, though. Hyoutei held theirs at the end of January, and Ohtori wanted to be sure to do well enough to make it into the 3-1 class next year. Not that it _really_ mattered, since he'd quit the tennis team and the seniors weren't allowed to participate in the orchestra at all, but he wanted to live up to his parents' expectations of him.

At least things were finally starting to pull together for him and Shishido. They still didn't spend much time together outside of tennis, maybe going for food once in a week, but their game was rapidly returning to the level they'd been at in the summer. They weren't National level, not yet, but Ohtori was starting to feel like he might be willing to find another pair to play against, to test themselves.

Tension between them was still high; both from the stress their friendship had gone through, and tension of another sort all together. Ohtori couldn't deny that he was still attracted to Shishido, even if his entire world didn't revolve around the senior any more. It came out in odd moments, usually when he wasn't expecting it, when they were just laughing and playing around on the courts. He would glance over and catch a particular longing look in his partner's eyes, and feel his own body flush with awareness in response.

It made him feel guilty, like he was cheating on Amano, even though he had _no_ intention of following through on his body's urgings. It was just hormones, and Shishido wasn't even the only other person that he found attractive. He had no more real reason to feel guilty about reacting to Shishido than to, say, Atobe. But he did, because of the history between them. He just couldn't help it.

What was more, he had a feeling Amano was picking up on his guilt, though the pianist hadn't yet said anything about it. His boyfriend had been very touchy and insecure lately, needing constant reassurance and affection from Ohtori to convince him that he still held the silver-haired boy's attention. Ohtori was doing his best to meet that need because he was well aware that it was his own fault the pianist was feeling so uncertain of him.

Hopefully as time went by and Ohtori continued to remain steadfastly faithful, Amano would relax. At least he'd already stopped constantly fussing about Ohtori getting hurt again, when it became evident that Shishido really was doing his best to win Ohtori's friendship back.

Glancing at the clock, Ohtori blinked. And then swore, scrambling for his tennis bag in search of his phone. It was past eleven; not only was it later than he'd meant to stay up, since he had morning practice tomorrow with Sakaki and Amano, but he'd also completely forgotten that he'd promised to call his boyfriend after he got back from the game with Shishido.

That had been _hours_ ago. He fished the phone out of his bag and flipped it open, stabbing the speed dial button to call Amano. Gods, the other boy was going to be _so_ mad...

He was a little surprised, therefore, when the only emotion in Amano's voice as he breathlessly answered seemed to be concern. "Choutarou? Where are you, what happened? Are you okay?"

Now Ohtori felt more than just a little guilty for forgetting. Amano had answered after only one ring; had he been keeping his phone on him, getting more and more worried when Ohtori didn't call? And yet he hadn't phoned Ohtori, probably because he knew that would have seemed too much like he was jealously checking up on his boyfriend.

"I'm so sorry, Kazuya," Ohtori apologized sincerely, flopping back onto his bed. "I forgot to call you! I was so focused on getting all my English homework done it just completely slipped my mind. I've been home for hours."

"Gods! Choutarou, how could you?" _Now_ came the anger he'd expected at first; Ohtori winced. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been? I thought maybe he'd done something again, that you were too upset to call."

"No, just horribly distracted," Ohtori sighed and rolled onto his back, shielding his eyes from the light with his arm. "There was no need for you to be so worried, though. Honestly, Kazuya, I would think it would be obvious by now that he has no intention of hurting me again. Quite the opposite."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Kazuya sighed. "I'm not sure that doesn't worry me more. How long have you been back? Have you been studying all this time? Your neck must be about ready to break. You shouldn't study for so long at a time."

"I've been studying since I got home, but it's not as long as you're thinking," Ohtori answered. "I didn't get home until almost seven."

"What?" He could hear the surprise in his boyfriend's voice. "I thought that indoor court near your house closed at five on Sundays? Did you go find a... what did you call them? Street court?"

"No," Ohtori chose his words carefully, aware he was treading on dangerous ground here. He hadn't actually told Amano about the times he and Shishido had gone for food after a game. "We went to get something to eat, we were both starving and we wanted to look at the tournament schedules."

There was an ominous silence, and Ohtori struggled not to sigh. He understood Amano's jealousy and couldn't entirely blame him, but it did get difficult to deal with at times. "I thought you said you were keeping things strictly to tennis?" the pianist asked, and Ohtori couldn't mistake the chill in his voice.

"I did say that," Ohtori agreed easily. "And it was related to tennis. But Kazuya, you knew all along that I was planning to allow him to try to rebuild the friendship and earn my trust back. That's hardly going to happen if I refuse to associate with him off the courts in any way."

"Choutarou!" The strident protest made Ohtori wince again. "Damn it, I knew he was going to try something like this. Don't you see what he's doing? He's trying to win you over, and I don't just mean your friendship. He's finally realized what he's missing, and now he's trying to steal you back!"

"He's not trying to steal anything, least of all me." Somehow Ohtori managed not to snap, to keep his voice level. They'd already had this discussion several times, and each time it became less a 'discussion' and more an 'argument'. "He knows I'm going out with you and he respects that. He certainly knows me well enough to know that I would _never_ cheat on you. And even if he _was_ trying to woo me away, it wouldn't _work_."

"Can you honestly tell me you're not interested in him any more?" Amano's voice was slightly bitter, and Ohtori started to protest. Damn it, he was _over_ Shishido. The infatuation was dead and buried.

"I'm not talking about the crush you had on him," the pianist cut him off before he got more than the first indignant syllable out. "I'm just talking about interest. Are you seriously telling me you're not attracted to him in the least now?"

"Of course not." Ohtori sighed and sat up, leaning against the headboard and raking his free hand through his hair. "Even if I did tell you that, you wouldn't believe me, and you'd have good reason not to. He's still as physically attractive as he ever was. Of course I'm still attracted to him." He figured that in this case it was better to be blunt than try to lie. "But that doesn't _mean_ anything, Kazuya. It's just hormones. Whether it's him, or someone else from the tennis team, or that cute flautist you and I both drool over, it doesn't mean anything."

"You don't spend hours alone with any of those other people every weekend," Amano snapped back, overwrought. "Not to mention the days you meet after school. Gods, Choutarou, I feel like he sees more of you than I do, and I'm your boyfriend!"

"You make it seem like some kind of sordid clandestine assignations," Ohtori replied, stung. "It's not like we're meeting somewhere private and secluded, Kazuya. We're playing tennis on a public court, and then going to an equally public restaurant to eat afterwards. It's not as if he's asking me out on dates." Lowering his voice, he added, "You sound like you don't trust me alone with him."

"Can you really blame me?" The angry words hung between them, heavy and painful, and Ohtori couldn't stop the little shocked gasp from escaping him in response. For a long moment neither of them said anything, just listening to the other breathe over the phone.

"Choutarou," Amano finally ventured hesitantly, contrite. "I'm sorry, I had no right..."

"No, you had every right," Ohtori cut him off. His tone was weary more than anything else. "Considering what happened the last time you left me alone with him, at his birthday. I can't blame you. You have no reason to trust me." Amano had nothing to say to that, and Ohtori sighed.

"I'm asking you to trust me anyway," he added softly. "Please, Kazuya. Tennis is important to me. Almost as important as music. I can't give it up, not even for you."

"I'm not asking you to give up tennis!" Amano replied, frustrated. "I would never do that, Choutarou. I just don't understand why you have to play with _him_."

"Because my strengths lie in doubles, not singles," Ohtori explained for at least the hundredth time since this whole mess had started. "I'm a decent singles player, but I'll never go very far with it. One of my best abilities in tennis is that I'm good at synchronizing with and anticipating a partner."

"So why can't you find a _different_ partner?" Amano demanded. "He can't be the only other doubles player at Hyoutei. Let alone outside the school."

"Of course he's not." Grimacing, Ohtori searched for a way to explain it that would finally drive the point home for good. "No more than I'm the only violinist at Hyoutei. But would you have been just as willing to play our duet with Kazamaki?" he asked, naming the second chair violinist. The other boy was a good musician, but not at Ohtori's level.

"It's not the same thing," Amano argued heatedly. "He's nowhere near as good as you are. Nobody in the school is. But yes, I'd be willing to play with someone else at your level, and I have in the past. There must be other players as good or better than Shishido out there. He was dropped from the team because he lost a game in a tournament, wasn't he?"

"Yes he was," Ohtori agreed. "There are better players than him out there. Atobe-san and Jirou-san are both better at singles than he is. Oshitari-san is probably a better doubles player in general. But that's not the point." He shook his head. "Most good tennis players can play doubles. Playing doubles well is another matter, but there are lots of decent doubles players out there. The trick is that you have to find someone who's not just _good_ , but who can _match_ you. Someone who plays up to your strengths and covers your weaknesses. Someone who can predict and anticipate you so well they never have to look to see where you're going to go, to guess whether you're going after a ball or intending to stay back to cover the other side of the court.

"That kind of trust and communication is what gets you Nationally-ranked," he continued fervently. "It's what wins tournaments. Shishido-san and I had that last season, and we're building it again now. I've never found anyone else who matches me half as well as he does. And sure," he cut off the expected objection before Amano could make it, "there are probably other people out there who _would_ be as good a match for me as he is. But how would I _find_ them? And once I did, then what? They'd be from another school, because I guarantee you there is nobody else in Hyoutei that can play with me as well as he can. What would happen when we made it back onto the team in high school, and had to face each other in a tournament?"

There was silence for a long moment as Amano digested that. Finally Ohtori heard his boyfriend sigh. "I don't like it," the pianist muttered resentfully. "I'm not ever going to like it, Choutarou. I don't trust _him_ and I never will."

"I'm not asking you to like it, Kazuya." Contrary to popular belief Ohtori's patience was not endless, and he was approaching his limit at the moment. "I'm only asking you to accept it. This is important to me. I _am_ going to play tennis, and I refuse to do less than my best. That means I need Shishido-san as my partner. I would no more want to play a match with someone else than I would want to perform a concert using one of the school's spare violins instead of my own."

Again there was a long silence, and finally the pianist sighed. "All right," he said grudgingly. "All right, fine. It's not like I can stop you."

"No, you can't," Ohtori agreed implacably, and he heard a stifled sound of anger on the other end of the line. "You're my boyfriend and I care a great deal for you, and that means that your wants and needs are high on the list of things I consider when making my decisions. But they're not the deciding factors, and in this, _my_ wants and needs dictate that I have to go against your wishes. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

"Then I guess there's nothing more for us to say about it." Amano's voice was stiff and cold, but Ohtori could hear the deep hurt hovering beneath the chill formality. He knew better than most people how to read past the ice, because he and Amano had exactly the same defence mechanisms. It was the same reason Amano had been able to sense Ohtori's pain at the start of the term, and had come forward to befriend him and try to help him deal with Shishido's apparent disinterest.

If he could have, Ohtori would have done just about anything to avoid hurting Amano like this. But he didn't have a choice, not if he wanted to stay true to himself. There was only so much he could compromise on before it stopped being a compromise and started being submission. "No, I guess there's not," he said softly. "I'll see you in practice tomorrow."

"See you then." The sound of the dial tone was abrupt, and Ohtori sighed deeply as he shut off the phone. Usually he and Amano would talk much longer before bed, and they almost never hung up without Amano telling Ohtori he loved him. The lack was rather glaring this time.

They'd argued often enough before, both being strong-willed and fairly stubborn about getting their own way. Many, if not most, of their arguments had centered around Shishido. But this felt more like a 'fight' than an 'argument', and Ohtori found his heart was aching more than he would have expected.

It was almost midnight now, and he got up to strip out of his clothes, pulling on a pair of sleep pants and turning out the light before he returned to the bed. He set his alarm, then snuggled down under the covers, settling into his accustomed sleeping position.

And found himself wide awake, staring at the room illuminated by the dim glow of the numbers on his clock. Sleep refused to come, his mind churning over that phone call and refusing to give up and let him rest. He kept playing it over in his mind, trying to find some way he could have made it go better, or conceive of an argument to use later that would finally sway Amano to his side.

What he really needed, he acknowledged ruefully, was someone he could talk to about the whole mess. Sometimes, especially when his emotions got too involved, Ohtori knew he could get too close to things and not be able to see the forest for the trees, so to speak. Right now Amano was his primary confidante and sounding board, however, and for obvious reasons he couldn't exactly go to his boyfriend with this problem.

Maybe Atobe or Jirou could offer him some insight? Despite his anger at them for interfering with his relationship with Shishido, he knew they'd meant well and didn't really blame them.

It was late, though, he reminded himself. Jirou would have been sound asleep for hours, and even Atobe would have retired for the night by now. Of course, the seniors didn't have to worry about studying or getting up for morning practices, so it was possible they'd be staying up later...

He found himself reaching for the phone, and sighed. He wasn't going to get to sleep tonight until he'd talked to _someone_ , that much seemed certain. Hopefully Atobe would forgive him.

Listening to the phone ring, he held his breath. If the senior was asleep, it was possible he wouldn't hear or answer his phone. Of course, he might be woken by it, in which case he might be rather put out. But for all his airs and affectations, Atobe had been a good captain, and Ohtori knew the older boy genuinely cared about the welfare of his players, so maybe he wouldn't mind the interruption _too_ much.

Just as he was about to give up, there was a click as someone answered. Ohtori started to ready his explanation for why he was calling in the middle of the night - and then every single thought flew right out of his brain as a far too familiar voice growled irritably, "This better be fucking good, Atobe. It's past midnight!"

Ohtori's mouth worked, but no sound came out. His heart was pounding in his throat; maybe it was blocking his voice. He'd meant to call Atobe. He'd been _certain_ that he'd hit the number that would dial Atobe's cell. Hadn't he?

Atobe's button was nowhere near Shishido's, though. His subconscious mind must be playing tricks on him. Before this whole mess had started, it had been Shishido that Ohtori would have called under these circumstances.

He was seriously tempted to just hang up and pretend it had been a wrong number or something when the older boy snapped, "Who the hell is this? Do you know what time it is?"

Unfortunately the manners Ohtori's family had drilled into him wouldn't let him hang up without at least apologizing for calling the wrong number and waking his senpai. "Shishido-san, I'm so sorry," he gasped at last. "I... I didn't mean to wake you..."

"Choutarou?" There was a rustle and a yawn on the other end, somewhat muffling the surprise in his partner's voice. "Sorry, I thought you were Atobe. Didn't figure there was anybody else with the balls to call me this late at night."

"I'm sorry," Ohtori apologized again. "I really didn't..."

"Nah, it's okay," Shishido cut him off. "What's up? Is something wrong? You sound kind of upset."

An odd sort of warmth trickled over Ohtori's chest at the evidence that Shishido still knew him well enough to be able to tell that over the phone. "It's nothing, really. I just... I didn't actually _mean_ to call you, I guess it was just..."

He floundered, but Shishido seemed to understand. "You were upset, so you called me without thinking about it?" the senior asked softly. "Hey, I don't mind. I'm a little surprised it was me you'd turn to, though, and not Amano."

Ohtori flushed at the question implied in the older boy's words. "It's not really something I can talk to him about," he mumbled, sinking deeper into his covers as if that would hide his embarrassment from Shishido.

There was a soft chuckle on the other end. "It's about him, huh? You guys have a spat?"

"Something like that." The words come reluctantly; some part of him was aware that he really shouldn't be talking to Shishido of all people about his problems with Amano. Not only would his boyfriend flip out if he ever found out, but it wasn't really fair to Shishido, either. "Shishido-san, I shouldn't..."

"Don't worry about it," Shishido cut him off once more. He'd always been good at heading off Ohtori's 'needless apologies', as he put it. "Seriously, Choutarou, I'm sure it'll be fine. You don't sound upset enough for it to have been an all-out fight. It'll blow over. No relationship is perfect all the time."

"I know," Ohtori agreed softly, sighing. "But I still shouldn't be talking to you about it."

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that I'm what you were fighting about?" Shishido said wryly. Ohtori made a noise that was part laugh and part snort, and Shishido chuckled again. "Not exactly a leap of logic, is it?" There was a pause, then Shishido added gruffly, "Look, I know I'm not exactly the most unbiased person on the subject. You've probably figured out by now that I don't like him much. But... but he's made you happy, and I know he cares about you a lot. So I'm sure he'll get over it. In time he'll understand that there's no way you would do anything behind his back, so he's got no reason to be jealous."

It surprised him more than a little that Shishido was capable of putting his own feelings aside like that to reassure him. It told Ohtori more loudly than words or promises ever could have that Shishido really did care a great deal about him, and was dedicated to making things up to him. Ohtori bit his lip and tried not to sniffle.

"You wanna talk about it?" Shishido offered, probably hearing the soft sounds Ohtori was making. "I may be biased, but I can listen well enough without influencing you. Sounds like you could use a shoulder to unload on."

"I can't," Ohtori said, more firmly this time. "It's not fair to either of you. But thank you, Shishido-san."

He started to add that they should hang up and go to sleep, though he was quite certain that sleep was still a long way away for him. Talking to Shishido had only exacerbated the problem. However, his partner beat him to it. "So, let's talk about something else," the older boy said glibly. "If you can't unload it, the best thing you can do is distract yourself and get your mind off it."

"But it's after midnight!" Ohtori protested, aghast.

"Yeah, so?" He could hear the grin in Shishido's voice. "Not like I need to be awake in class tomorrow. I passed the ascension exams with flying colours. _Nobody_ in the senior classes is paying much attention to lectures now. I'll just take a page from Jirou's book and nap through class."

Scandalized, Ohtori nevertheless laughed softly at the idea of his partner snoring away obliviously, following in the footsteps of the team narcoleptic. "It's not fair that you're all done your exams," he complained. "The end of year exams are coming up way too fast for us. I never seem to have enough time to study."

"So maybe you should start bringing your textbooks for us to look at when we go to eat after practice," Shishido suggested. "Least I can do is make up for all the time I'm stealing by helping you study. What's your worst subject?"

Before Ohtori realized what was happening, he found himself pulled into a discussion of his worst classes and what he was doing to study for them. From there they ended up debating the relative merits of different study methods, which turned into a laughing argument of whose favourite subject was more useless, his or Shishido's.

It was so easy to fall back into their old behaviour patterns. If someone could have pulled Ohtori outside the conversation and asked him, he'd have said that they were talking as if nothing had ever come between them. It felt _good_ to talk to Shishido like this again, and Ohtori found himself reveling in it.

When he had to break off talking to yawn for the third time in one sentence, it finally occurred to Ohtori to wonder how long they'd been talking. "Gods, I can hardly keep my eyes open," he murmured, his words slurred by exhaustion. "What time is it?" He couldn't focus enough to read his clock.

"Uh..." There was the sound of rustling, then a groan. "A little past three."

"What?" Ohtori's dismayed exclamation was interrupted by another yawn. "I have to be up at six to get to school in time for practice."

"Sucks to be you," Shishido replied unsympathetically. "Morning practices are definitely one thing I don't miss. At least it's not tennis practice... you won't get laps for falling asleep on the courts."

"Want to bet?" Ohtori replied with a snort. "Sakaki is the music teacher too, remember? I swear sometimes he almost forgets which practice he's at."

Shishido laughed, and was also interrupted by a yawn. "Damn. I should let you sleep. Feeling better?"

"A lot," Ohtori agreed, realizing he did indeed. He would definitely be able to sleep now, and not just because he was exhausted. "Thank you, Shishido-san."

"Hey, Choutarou," Shishido sounded suddenly serious. "Listen... I know our friendship is still on the rocks, and believe me I'm not making the mistake of thinking this conversation means you've forgiven me. But I want you to know, no matter what, I'm always here for you if you need me. For a shoulder to lean on, or someone to listen, or just a distraction, doesn't matter. No strings, no assumptions, I promise."

"Shishido-san..." Ohtori's voice caught in his throat, and he coughed to clear it. He hadn't expected that, though he probably should have. It was Shishido's way; he was intensely loyal to his friends and the people he cared about, and would do just about anything for them. "I won't forget," Ohtori said at last, his voice still a bit choked with emotion. "And the same is true in reverse."

"Good." There was satisfaction in Shishido's tone, but it wasn't in the least smug. "Sleep well, Choutarou. I'll see you in a couple days at our next practice, if I don't run into you in school before then. And don't worry, I'm sure you and Amano'll have things worked out pretty much as soon as you see each other again."

"Thank you," Ohtori repeated. "Sleep well, Shishido-san. I'll see you soon."

They hung up, and this time as Ohtori set the phone aside and snuggled into his pillow, he felt nothing but a sort of relaxed contentment. It took him almost no time at all to fall asleep, the memory of Shishido's warm, rough voice replaying itself over and over in his head as he drifted off.


	13. Chapter 13

There were indoor courts at Hyoutei of course, but most captains chose to continue working the club outside if the weather permitted it. Ohtori had heard various theories over the years as to why that was; some said it was because working in the cold air was supposed to be good for your endurance, others that it was sort of like the way Buddhist monks would train by standing under freezing waterfalls for hours.

Most people just agreed that it was sheer sadism on the part of the captains, however. And Hiyoshi was obviously no exception.

Ohtori stood outside the fenced area, watching the practice with a feeling of wistful nostalgia. Some part of his subconscious mind was tugging at him, telling him that he was obviously late for practice and needed to go get changed _now_ , not hang around waiting to be noticed and yelled at. His lips twitched as he heard Hiyoshi shout "Regulars! Ten laps!" and his body almost turned to start running automatically.

Beside him, Shishido laughed softly. "Old habits die hard, don't they?" At first Ohtori thought his partner had seen him start to move, until he looked over and saw that Shishido had actually taken the first step towards where the group in Hyoutei jerseys had started running.

"At least it was only Hiyoshi," Ohtori offered with a laugh. "If it had been Atobe's voice, we probably _would_ be running now."

Shishido opened his mouth to answer, but was beaten to it as a familiar voice barked from behind them, "Shishido! Ohtori! You're late, five laps!"

 _Both_ of them dropped their bags and started to move, their bodies and subconscious minds trained to follow that voice's commands without question. Ohtori caught sight of Atobe standing with his arms crossed a few feet behind them, a smirk on his face. Beside him Jirou was leaning on him for support; not because he was sleepy for once, but because he was laughing so hard there wasn't even any sound coming out.

"You bastard," Shishido swore, stopping before he'd taken more than a few steps and glaring at their former captain. "You just couldn't resist, could you? What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"I was wondering that myself," Hiyoshi said, raising an eyebrow as he came up to the low wall that separated the courts from the bleachers they were all standing on. "I don't suppose you're back to ask to rejoin?" he asked Ohtori, though it was clear he didn't expect a positive answer.

Chuckling, Ohtori shook his head. "No. Dear gods, no. It's been hard enough for Shishido-san and I to get our game back together, the last thing I need to do is sabotage us by trying to play with someone else as well. We wanted to know if you'd let us play your doubles teams. It'll be good training for them, and tell us whether we're actually good enough to start signing up for tournaments in the spring."

"You decided to start entering the non-school tournaments?" Hiyoshi looked thoughtful. "Huh. I guess that's not a bad idea, since you can't play together again in school for a couple of years. And you're right, it would be good for my doubles players. They're getting overconfident." He cocked his head curiously. "Why not just ask Mukahi-senpai and Oshitari-senpai, though?"

"First, because we already know their style inside and out, and how to seal all their special moves," Shishido replied, scooping his bag up from where he'd dropped it and handing Ohtori's over to him. "Not that they wouldn't be a challenge still, but we need to be sure we're capable of dealing with new things, not just pairs we already know." He grinned. "And second, because I don't think they've been doing a hell of a lot of training since the seniors retired. We'd probably run circles around them."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Atobe cut in smoothly. "You may have been foolish enough to let yourself get out of training, Shishido, but not all of us are so short-sighted. Admittedly I haven't seen much of Mukahi, but Oshitari has come over to play me several times."

"Still, they haven't been training as a pair," Ohtori said. "With school tournaments, more often than not the doubles pairs are mixed up all the time, to make sure they can still play with anyone. There are strong pairings who tend to play together more often than not, but even Seigaku's Golden Pair played with other people more often than each other in the tournaments last year." He shrugged. "But we're going to be facing other people like us, who have been training hard for months with specific partners. Oshitari-san and Mukahi-san won't have that kind of synergy any more, if they haven't been playing together for a while."

"Yeah, we found out how easy it is to lose your sense of each other, even after only a month," Shishido grimaced. "And before you get huffy, Atobe, it's the same reason we didn't just ask to play you and Jirou again. We need to practice against a doubles pair, not a pair of good singles players who are capable of working together."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Jirou agreed, finally catching his breath and peering at them in amusement over Atobe's shoulder. "I still want to get to play you guys, though! It wouldn't hurt to play with us sometimes, right?"

"Of course we'll play you sometimes, Jirou-san," Ohtori couldn't help but smile at the older boy. "But frankly, if we haven't improved as much as we think we have, I'd rather find out against people who don't know us than by embarrassing ourselves in front of you and Atobe-san again." Jirou snickered and winked at him, and Ohtori laughed.

Atobe had been studying the two of them; not quite in his 'insight' pose, but just watching them observantly. His ever-present smirk became something closer to a real smile. "I don't think you're going to have any problems," he told them. "Your communication has improved in leaps and bounds. Your body language is much closer to the way it was when you played together last year... if somewhat reversed." The smirk returned, and Shishido swatted irritably at him as Ohtori blushed.

Clearly out of the loop and having no idea what was being discussed between the lines, Hiyoshi just shrugged. "Go get changed, you can use the locker room... the non-Regulars one," he added, as both Ohtori and Shishido automatically started towards the much newer building that housed the Regulars' lockers and equipment. "Meet me back here, I'll tell my players."

As Jirou and Atobe settled into place on the bleachers, picking the spot that would give them the best view of the court Hiyoshi had gestured at, Ohtori and Shishido trotted to the clubhouse. "It's going to feel strange to play here and not be in our jerseys," Ohtori remarked to Shishido, who laughed.

"It's gonna be weirder to be using the non-Regulars' change room," the senior countered. "Never thought I'd set foot in there again after I got back on the team. Never wanted to."

"Well, we can't expect special privileges when we're not even in the club, let alone on the team," Ohtori replied, chuckling. They reached the door and made their way inside. The main room was huge, rows and rows of lockers and shelves taking up most of the space.

There were a couple of people inside; with more than two hundred people in the club, it was inevitable that there would always be someone with a broken shoelace or some other problem that required them to duck into the locker room briefly. The club members stared at Ohtori and Shishido curiously, and Ohtori heard a couple of excited whispers break out as they were recognized.

"Looks like we're still famous," he commented to Shishido as they both dropped their bags on a bench and started to strip down to the shorts and shirts they were wearing under their track pants and jackets. They'd chosen the end-of-month Saturday practice to make their request, so they would be able to focus entirely on the game for the day and not have to worry about classes.

"Or infamous," Shishido grinned at him, folding his outer clothes haphazardly and putting them on the bench. He checked to make sure his shoes were tied tight and Ohtori did the same. Then they grabbed their racquets and water bottles and headed back to the courts.

Unsurprisingly, a large group had already gathered around the court where they were to play. Ohtori thought Hiyoshi was wise for allowing it; if he tried to force the rest of the club to ignore it and keep practicing, they would be resentful of the missed opportunity. And they would be right to feel that way; this would probably be the kind of game they could learn a lot from watching.

They'd already done most of their warming up before coming near the tennis club; now they set their equipment down on one of the benches and started doing a few last stretches under the watchful eyes of the club. "You two ready?" Hiyoshi asked, walking over to them.

"Pretty much," Shishido agreed as he leaned on Ohtori's back to help the taller boy stretch out fully. "Who're we playing?"

"My D1 pair, Shinohara and Takato," the captain informed them. At their surprised looks, he smirked at them, looking eerily like Atobe for a brief moment. "Did you think I'd give you someone easy so you could walk all over them? You said you wanted a challenge. I'm not going to let you show up my team and make them look bad."

"On your head be it, then," Shishido laughed and straightened, offering Ohtori a hand up. Ohtori accepted it and let his partner help him to his feet. "We're still gonna walk all over them, and then you won't have the excuse that they weren't your best pair to fall back on."

Smiling, Ohtori shook his head at the senior's bravado. The fact was, neither of them was entirely sure just how good they were at this point. Solo practice could only tell you so much, and although they _felt_ like they were back in synch, they could have been mistaken. Part of him thought they should have tried playing someone like Atobe and Jirou first, just to test themselves, but Shishido had been insistent.

Well, perhaps he was right. As he retrieved his racquet and walked to the net to shake hands with their opponents, Ohtori could feel adrenalin pumping through him, energizing him until each step felt almost like he was bouncing. It was the challenge that was motivating him, the thrill of facing the unknown and unpredictable. This was exactly what they'd be dealing with in the tournaments; pairs they knew nothing about and couldn't work out strategies for beforehand.

They bowed and shook hands with the two juniors. Both had been in the sub-Regulars when Ohtori and Shishido had still been on the team, so he knew them by sight, but he'd never really trained with either of them. He could see the burning determination on their faces; the look in their eyes that promised they were going to do whatever it took to come out on top. Beating the previous year's D1 pair would do wonders for their reputation... _if_ they could do it.

Ohtori realized he had a rather predatory grin on his face that probably pretty much matched the one he could see Shishido wearing. The juniors might go down fighting, but they _were_ going down. He had a good feeling about this match.

All around them the club members were chanting at the top of their lungs, the familiar 'Katsuno wa Hyoutei' - 'The winner will be Hyoutei' cheer that Ohtori knew so well. Since Ohtori and Shishido were no longer members of the team the chant was technically supposed to support only their opponents. But Ohtori had walked out onto the court with that cheer at his back too many times not to feel buoyed by it now.

They won the spin, and chose to receive first. They'd discussed their basic strategy as they'd warmed up earlier, and agreed to save Ohtori's Scud Serve for the last games, if they used it at all. Winning their service games by simple expedient of a serve that couldn't be returned was all well and good, but wouldn't help them if they came up against someone who _could_ return the Scud Serve. Ohtori could practice his serve easily enough any time he wanted to. What they needed now was practice in actually playing.

As they moved to take their positions, Shishido reached out as if to clap Ohtori on the shoulder, the start of their familiar pre-game ritual. He paused just before he made contact, his dark blue eyes searching out Ohtori's gaze and asking silently whether it was still appropriate.

It wasn't, really. The things that ritual had symbolized were no longer relevant. Ohtori shook his head slightly, and saw Shishido's expression fall. Before the senior could turn away, however, Ohtori offered his hand in a high five.

Shishido hesitated, searching his eyes. Finally the predatory smile returned and he smacked Ohtori's hand, catching it and holding on for a long moment. Their hands tightened around each other's, and a new ritual was born. _We can take on the world. Bring it on._

The first couple of rallies were almost cautious, as both pairs tried to get a sense of what their opponents were capable of. Shishido took the first point; Takato took the next two, and then Shishido scored twice more to give them the advantage.

At that point, Ohtori could see that the two juniors were mostly focusing on Shishido. The senior played close to the net, and his style was more than flashy enough to draw attention to him. Ohtori had returned a few balls, but hadn't yet scored any points or really even given them something that was difficult to return. Despite the fact that he and Shishido were ahead, the juniors were becoming more confident and had begun to dismiss Ohtori as nothing more than baseline support for Shishido.

Grinning, Ohtori decided it was about time to disabuse them of the notion. Shishido evidently had the same thought; as the ball came back at them low and fast over the net, he saw his partner start to bolt for it.

Anyone else would have thought that Shishido had misjudged the speed of the ball and was seriously trying to return it. Ninety percent of the time a ball that low to the net would be a short return, and it would be up to the dash specialist to catch it and volley it back. Difficult enough since he was on the other side of the court and had to run to meet it, but this ball was coming fast and hard and was actually going to be a deep shot, landing right near the baseline.

Even as he started moving Ohtori saw the smirks spreading over the juniors' faces as they thought they'd won the point. Shishido was moving fast enough to get to the ball in time to return it, but only barely; it would be a sloppy return and they would easily be able to fire it back into the opposite corner for the point.

Just as he drew even with the ball, Shishido stepped forward as if he were going to try to lunge for it... but didn't even try to bring his racquet around, keeping it poised to one side as he smirked at the juniors across the net. Before the two younger boys realized he hadn't ever meant to return it the ball was past him, hitting the ground just inches in front of the baseline.

And arcing up to smash straight into Ohtori's racquet, where he'd raced across the back of the court to meet it. They hadn't even seen him coming, too focused on Shishido's dash to pay attention to him. He returned it just as hard and low as it had come to him. The other two had both been up near the net, the better to return what they'd assumed would be Shishido's clumsy volley. Instead the ball blew straight past both of them and landed in the far corner before going out.

"Game, Shishido-Ohtori," Hiyoshi called from the chair at the side. He'd chosen to ref rather than playing bench coach to his players. "One game to love. Change court."

There was a lot of muttering from the club members around them. Some of it sounded shocked and surprised, but for the most part everyone there had been present to see Shishido and Ohtori's victory against Seigaku, and also their later games in the Nationals. Shinohara and Takato were giving them dirty looks as they moved around to the other side of the court, and Shishido laughed and clapped Ohtori on the shoulder.

"Nice going, partner," the senior said, and Ohtori grinned back at him.

"Not bad yourself," he replied, brown eyes sparkling with excitement and the flush of victory. They could do this. He'd predicted Shishido's move flawlessly, and Shishido had known without looking that Ohtori would be where he needed to be. They had their synchronicity back.

The rest of the match was hardly a cakewalk, and they dropped a fair number of points to the juniors. The score climbed steadily in their favour, however; the other two boys did their best to learn their lesson and remember to watch for Ohtori, but Shishido was just too good at drawing attention and being a distraction. Not to mention scoring points in his own right; his Rising Counter was stronger than ever, and he'd added a few new tricks to his repertoire that he and Ohtori had worked out together.

Even in Shishido's service game, when it was Ohtori playing up at the net and Shishido at the baseline, they held strong. Because his serve was _so_ strong and he tended to leave the net play up to Shishido, most people forgot that Ohtori was a serve _and volley_ specialist. His volleys were viciously fast and accurate, and his long legs let him cover the whole net area easily. Anything that made it past him - or, more accurately, that he allowed to make it past him - was met by Shishido's Rising Counter. They didn't drop a single point in that game.

After that, with the score at 4-0, they switched to Australian formation. Until that moment they'd been playing in the standard doubles configuration, but they'd regained enough confidence in their pairing to attempt some of the more difficult formations. They pulled it off flawlessly, and Ohtori could _see_ the effect it had on their opponents, demoralizing them badly.

They took that game without dropping a point as well. Facing an opponent so capable of throwing you off your game was a downward spiral; the more confidence the two juniors lost, the worse they were playing, and therefore the more confidence they lost. Short of a miracle, at this point it was a given that Ohtori and Shishido were going to win the set in straight games.

And it would take a very impressive miracle indeed, because the sixth and likely final game was Ohtori's service game again.

He glanced at Shishido, who grinned back and nodded at him. The two juniors had started out playing well, but they weren't providing much of a challenge any more. There was no reason to drag it out. "Let's end this, Choutarou," Shishido murmured in verbal confirmation of Ohtori's thoughts.

Smiling back, Ohtori bounced the ball at the service line a few times, waiting for the other pair to get into position. Clearly desperate, they were trying a more advanced formation of their own, a variation on the Australian. Ohtori's smile widened. It wasn't going to help them.

As his arm came up for the toss, he began the familiar chant. "Ikkyu..." The words narrowed his focus, helping him put all his concentration into the motion. He didn't even hear the startled and anticipatory gasps from those who heard and recognized the words, or the ragged cheering that was starting.

Feet _there_ , racquet arm _just so_ , and let the ball drift almost gently from his fingertips at the top of the throw. It didn't spin at all, arcing high in a textbook perfect toss. "Nyu..."

Back arched, all coiled tension; knees bent and feet braced for the lunge. The ball reached the top of its flight and started back down again, gravity an insurmountable force tugging at it. "Kon!" Ohtori's racquet snapped up and forwards, all the considerable strength in his back and shoulders slamming it into the ball.

It was one of the best Scud Serves he'd ever done. He could _feel_ the ball on the strings of his racquet like a living thing, squarely in the center of the sweet spot. As it sped away from the impact and his body followed through on the serve, he finally dropped his head to watch its progress over the net.

It took a sharp eye and a lot of experience to even be able to see a well-executed Scud Serve, let alone return it. Both Takato and Shinohara had seen him play in the tournaments, had known what was coming when they heard the familiar chant. Still neither of them was able to do more than blink before the ball had impacted hard on their side of the court, right in the corner of the 'T'.

"Fifteen-love!" Hiyoshi called into the silence that followed the sound of the ball hitting the court. A roar of astonished noise followed the declaration, and their opponents looked shaken. Ohtori smiled in satisfaction, and Shishido grinned back at him over his shoulder. Even those who had seen it before were surprised; Ohtori had broken 200 km/h even before he'd resigned from the team, and now the Scud Serve was faster than ever.

After that, it wasn't so much a game as a rout. The juniors tried their best, but they couldn't even catch up to the serve fast enough to try to return it. Ohtori was fully confident that even if they had managed to catch it, it would have blown their racquets right out of their hands. There weren't many people strong enough to return a serve that hard.

The final score for the set was six to love for Ohtori and Shishido, and their opponents dropped to their knees, panting in exhaustion. Ohtori and Shishido were both sweating and breathing hard, but were nowhere near as badly off as the juniors. They'd been training with an eye to playing three set matches in the future, and it showed in their improved endurance.

Shishido pumped his fist once in a gesture of triumph, then turned and all but flew across the court to catch Ohtori in a tight grip on the shoulders that was almost a hug. The gesture was forceful enough that it knocked his cap off, revealing his sweat-soaked shaggy hair beneath. "We did it! Choutarou, we did it! We are _so_ back in action!"

Laughing, Ohtori reached up and ruffled his partner's hair with his free hand, making Shishido growl and swat at him playfully. "We certainly did, Shishido-san," he agreed, his eyes shining with no less a sense of victory than Shishido was displaying.

The cheers were almost deafening, even as the other club members spilled onto the courts to console the losers. Ohtori and Shishido were surrounded by a swirl of excited people, all babbling questions and congratulations at them in an incomprehensible swell of noise. Jirou was right in the middle of the pack, bouncing up and down in full hyper mode, and Ohtori saw Atobe smiling indulgently at the edges of the pack. Atobe caught him looking and nodded once, the stamp of his approval. Their former captain thought they were ready as well.

"All right, enough!" a deep voiced shouted from the back of the crowd. Sakaki strode forward, scowling at the rowdy mass of tennis players on the courts. "Non-Regulars, back to your drills. Regulars, ten laps for ignoring your own training, and then meet in the clubroom to go over the game."

Ohtori flushed as he saw that Sakaki was holding a video camera. He hadn't even seen his coach and music instructor on the sidelines, but somebody must have run to get him when the match was first announced. The thought that their game was going to be picked apart and used as an instruction tool for the Regulars made him both embarrassed and proud.

He couldn't help but wince as he saw Sakaki approach the defeated D1 pair, however. A year ago, he knew, the two would have been dropped from the team without question. Contrary to the rumour going around the junior-high tennis circuit, Hyoutei Regulars were _not_ dropped just for losing a match, and never had been. For one thing, the only person on the team who'd _never_ lost a game was Atobe. A practice like that would have run through the entire two-hundred member club in short order, unless they never played any games even to train.

However, a crushing 6-0 defeat _would_ get you dropped. That was what had happened to Shishido in that fateful game against Tachibana of Fudoumine last season. Ohtori held his breath, wondering if Hyoutei was about to lose one of their doubles pairs before the tournaments had even started. Shishido's return to the Regulars had changed things a great deal, but only in that it was no longer impossible for a dropped Regular to return to the team if he improved enough. The standards for keeping your place on the team were still high.

Sakaki surveyed the two juniors for a long moment, as they stood with their heads bowed before him. "You're very lucky that was neither an official game nor a ranking match," the coach finally declared. "I expect much better of my players. You're on probation, and dropped to the D2 spot. Now go run your laps."

The sighs of relief from the juniors was audible even as far away as Ohtori was. Probation meant they _would_ be dropped for any loss, not just a total defeat, but at least they still had a chance. They turned and started running, their steps staggering a bit with exhaustion from the tough game.

"Good job," Sakaki said, turning now to Ohtori and Shishido. Ohtori straightened and his eyes shone at the rare praise, and he saw Shishido smile beside him as well. "You've both improved. I'll be watching you at the tournaments." With that he moved to go oversee the drills, and the two boys turned to grin at each other rather like idiots.

"We'll all be watching," Atobe echoed their former coach, deigning to smile at them. "You'd best do Hyoutei proud."

"We will," Ohtori said firmly. "We've finally got our game together again, and there's nowhere to go from here but up." It was the best feeling in the world, the heady sensation of a flawless victory. He didn't make the mistake of thinking that every game they played would be this relatively easy, but if they could take on Hyoutei's D1 pair and win, then they really had a chance.

There was only one thing marring his triumph; he wished Amano could have been there to see it. He'd invited his boyfriend to come watch the game, but the pianist had begged off. He'd cited his utter lack of understanding of the game as his excuse, which was true enough, but it wasn't like tennis was _that_ hard to follow. Ohtori knew the real reason was that Amano didn't want to be anywhere near Shishido.

Well, perhaps it was for the best. It probably would have been awkward anyway, having Amano watching as Shishido pounded his back and all but hugged him in triumph. Ohtori thought maybe it was something you could only understand if you played in competitions at this level; the sheer exuberance that overtook you when you won. There was nothing sexual about it, but given how touchy his boyfriend was in regards to Shishido, Ohtori would no doubt have had to spend the next several days trying to placate the pianist.

Shaking his head, he pushed all thoughts of his complicated love life aside. Right now, he just wanted to revel in victory, and join in the laughing and teasing flying between Shishido, Atobe and Jirou. He'd worry about Amano later. For now, he wanted to celebrate.


	14. Chapter 14

Unlike Shishido's family, Ohtori's had insisted on actually holding a birthday party for him, instead of just letting him invite some friends over to hang out. His protests, no matter how vehement, had gone unheeded. At this point, he was just grateful he'd at least been allowed to choose the guest list, and that they _did_ recognize that he was a bit too old for party games.

Also unlike Shishido, Ohtori did _not_ hold his birthday celebration on his actual birthday. He never did, unless it happened to fall on a weekend, because there was already far too much stress associated with that day. If he'd had his way, he'd have spent the majority of his birthdays curled up under his blankets and ignoring the world.

Well, the female half, anyway. He didn't even like chocolate all that much. _Why_ had his mother thought that it would be 'cute' for him to be born on Valentine's day? The way his father told it, his mother had gone out of her way to do strenuous things that would trigger labour early, even though he hadn't been due for another couple of days.

Of course, his mother always laughed and swatted at his father when he told that story, protesting that she'd done no such thing, so it was possible his father was making it up. But frankly, he wouldn't have put it past his mother to do something like that.

Instead, the Sunday before his birthday he invited a bunch of people over to his house - the former tennis team, his boyfriend, and a couple other people from the orchestra. In all honesty, most of the latter had been invited purely so that Amano wouldn't be stuck listening to tennis stories all afternoon; Ohtori wasn't particularly close to anyone in the orchestra except Amano. For all that the orchestra itself was smaller than the tennis club, it didn't foster the same sense of closeness that being on the Regulars had.

None of them except Shishido and Amano had been to his house before. His family was well off even by Hyoutei standards, and most of his friends had been rather astonished to see where he lived. The tennis Regulars of course were used to Atobe and his mansions, so it wasn't quite as shocking to them, but he was still getting some sideways looks from Mukahi and Jirou had babbled about the house for a good ten minutes before getting sleepy again.

He stood now in the doorway to the back garden, a plate of half-eaten cake in one hand as he watched the little clusters of people talking and drifting about. Even though it was supposed to be his party, he wasn't really enjoying himself. Most of his attention had gone into keeping Shishido and Amano away from each other; any time they saw each other he got a sense of impending disaster that was hard to shake.

Maybe it had something to do with the way he could see Amano freezing over anytime Shishido was even mentioned, or the sound of Shishido growling if he caught sight of Amano. The fact that his boyfriend and his partner disliked each other intensely was a severe source of strain for Ohtori, and it was getting wearing.

"Hey, Ohtori-kun, this cake is really good!" a familiar voice exclaimed from behind him, and Ohtori's smile was only half feigned as he turned. Jirou was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, his brown eyes wide and a grin the size of Atobe's ego plastered over his face. Ohtori could only assume it was a result of the sugar rush from the cake.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, Jirou-san," he said politely. "Um. Have you seen Shishido-san or Kazuya anywhere?" He hadn't seen either of them in at least ten minutes, and it was starting to make him nervous. What if they were somewhere _together_?

"I saw Amano-kun talking to your sister in the kitchen," Jirou replied, tilting his head to one side. "We went in 'cause I wanted more cake, but then Atobe dragged Shishido off somewhere when we saw Amano-kun." His grin widened slightly. "I think he went to go 'drill some culture into him' by asking your mother to show them the rose gardens.

Ohtori breathed a quiet sigh of relief. His mother's prize roses had won several shows, and the gardens had been featured in half a dozen magazines. His mother could talk about them for hours, and it wouldn't surprise him in the least if Atobe actually _was_ interested in that sort of thing. And while Shishido wouldn't have hesitated to tell Atobe off for dragging him into something like that, the senior was never anything but polite to Ohtori's mother. Once she started talking, he'd have been forced to just follow along and listen quietly.

"Thank you," he said fervently to Jirou, who snickered softly. "And please pass my thanks on to Atobe-san as well, if I don't get a chance to. I don't know what I'd have done today without the two of you helping to keep Shishido-san occupied."

"It was the least we could do," Jirou replied, making no effort to dissemble about it. His eyes were sparkling with laughter. "Considering how badly we screwed up at Shishido's birthday party. We figured it was kind of our duty to make sure things didn't go too badly today."

"Well it's working, so far at least," Ohtori said wryly. "I've been waiting for disaster to strike all day, but it hasn't yet." He tried to stifle a sigh without much success. "This would be so much easier if they could at least tolerate each other."

Somewhat to his surprise, Jirou reached up and patted him gently on the shoulder. "It's tough on you," the older boy agreed. "But you can handle it. You're stubborn - as stubborn as Shishido, in your own way."

Laughing, Ohtori nodded. "I have to be, or he'd walk all over me. That wouldn't be much of a partnership."

"You'll be fine," Jirou predicted, nodding firmly. "It'll all work out in the end, you'll see. At least you're not fighting with either of them now."

 _Much,_ Ohtori mentally appended Jirou's sentence. He and Amano had reached a sort of cold-war stalemate on the subject of Shishido, mostly by avoiding the topic of conversation entirely. Ohtori was careful not to ever bring the senior up, and Amano did his best to pretend the older boy didn't exist. It was an uneasy truce, and Ohtori knew it couldn't go on forever. Sooner or later one of them would reach the breaking point, and he had a feeling it was going to be messy when it happened.

He could only hope that it wouldn't happen _today_. Not with his family present. He hadn't yet found the courage to tell them about his preferences, and doubted he would do so any time in the near future. Maybe later, after he'd moved out to go to university. The last thing he needed right now was to possibly be thrown out of his house and lose his tuition to Hyoutei. Not that he really believed his family would do that to him, but it wasn't worth even the slightest risk.

But he wasn't going to dump any of that on poor Jirou. He could handle his own problems, damn it. He was fourteen years old - well, he would be in two more days, anyway. He needed to stand on his own two feet, and work things through without relying on others to fix things for him.

At least Shishido was making an honest effort not to bad-mouth Amano in any way. He also preferred to avoid the subject of Ohtori's boyfriend if at all possible, but when he sensed Ohtori really _needed_ to talk about it, he wasn't hesitant to draw the younger boy out about it. And true to his word, he'd done his best to offer a supporting shoulder without letting his own bias interfere.

Then again, given their respective temperaments, if a blow-up _did_ happen today he was fairly certain it would be started by Shishido, so maybe there wasn't all that much difference in the two situations after all. He was just nicer about it _to Ohtori_.

"You know, sometimes I think I must subconsciously _like_ having my life be so complicated," he said wearily. "I certainly go out of my way to do things in the most difficult way possible. I'm too stubborn to ever take the easy route."

"Life _is_ complicated," Jirou replied with a shrug. "If it's not, then you're not actually living, you're just drifting. It's the tough stuff that makes it interesting." When Ohtori stared at him in surprise for that rather deep statement, the older boy grinned at him again. "Why do you think I sleep so much? It's to get past all the boring, unchallenging stuff to the things that are actually worth being awake for."

"You..." Ohtori had to laugh. He reached up to ruffle the shorter boy's hair, and Jirou leaned into the touch happily like an overeager puppy. "Sometimes I forget that Atobe-san and Shishido-san don't just keep you around because you're cute."

"That's okay, everybody forgets," Jirou informed him glibly. "Even Atobe and Shishido. I don't mind, I think the look on people's faces when I shock them is funny."

"Somehow _that_ doesn't surprise me in the least." Ohtori mimed smacking Jirou and the older boy ducked playfully, nearly spilling his cake.

"You should go find Atobe-san," he added when Jirou had rebalanced the endangered confection. "At least somebody ought to be having fun today."

"Nah, I'm not interested in roses," Jirou shook his head. "I'd fall asleep, and your mom would probably be insulted because she doesn't know me." Ohtori laughed again, and Jirou grinned impishly. "I think I'll go talk to Amano-kun. He should know that not all tennis players are evil... and he's fun, he doesn't know _what_ to make of me."

"You have spent far too much time around Atobe-san and Shishido-san," Ohtori told him, shaking his head. "They've corrupted you. I bet you were a sweet, innocent little child who would never even think of enjoying the fact that someone didn't know how to react to you."

"Are you kidding me?" Now the impish grin was turned on Ohtori, brown eyes sparkling up at him. "Who do you think corrupted _them_?" With that Jirou scampered off, heading back into the kitchen in search of Amano.

Chuckling softly to himself, Ohtori leaned back against the side of the house and resumed watching the little knots of people drifting about. Mukahi was demonstrating his gymnastics prowess to a group of awed musicians, while Oshitari appeared to be discussing doubles training methods with Hiyoshi. One of the drummers was over in a corner teaching Kabaji basic beats using an upside down bowl; Ohtori smiled when he realized the big junior's ability to copy anything he saw physically done was actually making him a quick enough study that he was impressing the other musicians in the area. It was nice to see Kabaji getting a bit of attention for his own sake for a change.

"Well, it's nice to see you smiling for a change, little brother," his sister's voice came from behind him. He turned to see her coming out of the kitchen towards him, and she raised an eyebrow at him. "I know you don't like your birthday much, but you usually enjoy the parties more than this. Why were you so insistent on mom and dad not doing anything this year, anyway? You've spent the whole afternoon looking like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"More like waiting for the bomb to explode," Ohtori sighed and gave her a resigned smile. She was shorter than he was despite being four years older; not by much, though. She was probably taller than most of the people at the party. She often teased him that it was supposed to be the little brother who looked up to the older sister, not the other way around, so he needed to shrink a bit.

"Why, what's the disaster waiting to happen?" she wanted to know, coming out to lean against the wall beside him. "Everyone seems to be having a good time."

"That's because there are a couple of people, including me, putting a great deal of effort into making sure things stay peaceful." He raked a hand through his hair and tried not to sigh again. "I've got two people here who literally can't stand the sight of each other. One of them has a short temper, and the other one snarks at people he doesn't like. If they stay in each other's presence for more than a minute or two I'm afraid it might degenerate into a fight."

"Why'd you invite them, then?" she asked curiously. "You should have left them both off the guest list, and if they asked about it you could have told them it was because they were too childish for you to be sure they'd behave properly. That would probably shut them up fast."

"I couldn't not invite them," Ohtori shook his head wryly. "One of them is my best friend, and the other is my partner." It occurred to him belatedly that telling her this was just asking for her to wonder _why_ the two boys hated each other so much. Well, maybe he could just tell her they'd gotten into a fight over something.

"Ouch." She winced and looked appropriately chagrined. "Yeah, that's a pretty bad situation. I don't blame you for being nervous." She paused, and then laughed softly. "I wondered why that hyperactive tennis boy was taking such an interest in Amano-kun. Keeping him busy and away from Shishido-kun, is he?"

"Something like that," Ohtori agreed. He couldn't help smiling again as he added, "Atobe-san dragged Shishido-san off with him to ask kaa-san about her roses."

His sister laughed again. "Clever. That will keep him occupied for a while. So is that why you've been dragging around looking so frustrated lately? Because the two of them are fighting and it's putting you in the middle?"

Hesitating, Ohtori reviewed his options. While he and his sister had never been terribly close, he valued her advice a great deal. He'd been badly wanting to ask her for help with this whole mess, but hadn't figured out how to do it without giving himself away. "Partly," he answered slowly. "There's some other stuff going on as well, unrelated to them." He shrugged awkwardly and looked at her from the corner of his eye, shyly. "Nee-san? Will you promise not to tell kaa-san and tou-san if I ask you something? They'll just _tease_ me."

She grinned at him, looking delighted. "Girl trouble, huh? It's about time. All right, I promise I won't tell them. I still owe you for not telling them you caught me kissing Daisuke in my room last year. What's up? Trying to figure out how to confess to someone you like?"

"No, I'm kind of past that part," he told her, shuddering at the memory of his confession to Shishido. At least Amano had been the one who'd confessed to _him_. "I wish it were that simple. I just... if you were going out with someone and one of your friends, a really close friend, didn't like the guy, what would you do?"

Sharply she asked, "You know you could be expelled if they catch you dating before high school, right?" He nodded. She had _no idea_ how likely that outcome was if the school authorities found out about his relationship. "So long as you're careful," she shrugged. "Not like you're the first person to break the rule.

"As for your question, I'd like to say that I'd start seriously reconsidering the guy I was dating," she replied thoughtfully. "Having your friends not like your guy is often an indication that there's something going on that's not so good, that you can't see because you're too close to the situation. But in all honesty, I'd probably ignore them. Nobody who thinks they're in love ever wants to listen to anything bad about their boyfriend. It would probably make me worry, though."

"What if the friend who didn't like him was also a guy, though?" Ohtori persisted. "And you knew he kind of had a crush on you, and that probably the reason he didn't like your boyfriend was that he was jealous?"

She gave him an odd look, and he realized too late that talking about this immediately after telling her about Amano and Shishido's feud probably hadn't been the smartest thing he'd ever done. He was really sticking his foot in his mouth today. He flushed miserably and looked away from her.

"Choutarou, do you even _have_ any close female friends?" she asked, and his flush deepened. Before he could blurt out something about the few girls from the orchestra he'd invited to the party, she shook her head and raised her hand to stop him. "No, you know what? Never mind, don't answer that. None of my business."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ohtori relaxed. She'd always been a very open and progressive person, at least. And she'd already promised not to tell their parents about this. "Thank you, nee-san," he said quietly.

"No problem," she replied, giving him a quirky smile. "What are big sisters for? I don't really know what to tell you, though. I guess you just have to decide if the friendship is worth the jealousy or not. But remember that this probably won't be an isolated incident; they'll always be jealous of your, uh... significant others. It could cause more problems later on."

He nodded seriously, considering her words. She patted him on the shoulder in an unknowing echo of Jirou's earlier gesture of support. "Just remember, however bad it all feels like it is right now, it's mostly just teenage angst blowing everything out of proportion. In a couple of years you'll look back at yourself and laugh because you were so _dramatic_ about everything."

Somehow he doubted that very much. He was _not_ 'dramatic' - though people had certainly referred to Shishido as a 'drama queen' often enough. And the situation was a great deal more complicated than he'd told her, so she just didn't understand what was going on.

She laughed, apparently seeing his doubt in his eyes. "I know, you don't believe me," she grinned at him. "I didn't believe mom either, when she told me the same thing. I was your age and going through my first crush, and I was convinced the world was going to end if I confessed to him and he didn't like me back. You'll see." Patting him again, she turned to go back into the kitchen.

The only real problem with her advice - other than the ridiculousness of thinking he'd be able to _laugh_ at this in a few years - was that it wasn't actually Shishido who was causing most of the problems with his jealousy. Oh, he would probably be the one to start any real fighting that might happen between his boyfriend and his partner, but for the most part Ohtori had to admit he was being remarkably mature about the whole thing. Maybe because he knew he had only himself to blame for missing his chance.

Did that mean it wasn't the value of his friendship, but rather the value of his relationship that needed to be weighed against the difficulty caused by the jealousy issues? He shifted, uncomfortable with the thought. If he was being honest with himself, there was a part of him - a small part, but nevertheless a part of him - that was starting to think that having to constantly placate Amano _wasn't_ worth the effort he had to put into it. The cold-war state they were in meant they weren't actively fighting about it any more, but Ohtori sometimes felt like he had to keep track of all the time he spent with Shishido, so he could be certain to spend just as much or more with Amano.

It shouldn't be about how much time he spent with one or the other of them, right? Shouldn't it be about the quality of the time they spent together? Somehow he didn't think Amano was going to get over the need for frequent reassurance any time soon.

Guilt struck him as he realized he was actually contemplating breaking up with his boyfriend just because he had to put a little effort into keeping the other boy happy. What kind of a shallow person was he? Amano had been there for him during one of the worst periods of his life, and had certainly put more than just 'a little effort' into dealing with Ohtori at that time. Was it too much of him to ask that Ohtori put up with a bit of insecurity from him in return?

Of course not. Sighing, Ohtori resigned himself to the situation. He wasn't willing to give up Shishido as a partner, and he was by the gods going to prove to Amano that he had nothing to worry about. Hopefully things would improve as time showed Amano that he didn't need to worry about losing Ohtori to his partner, even if he was actually becoming friends with Shishido again. He rubbed at his forehead, trying to massage away the headache building behind his eyes. Teenaged angst, indeed. If his sister had ever had to deal with anything this complicated at his age, he'd eat his tennis racquet.


	15. Chapter 15

"Game, Shishido-Ohtori pair! Five games to four - change court!"

Panting, Ohtori forced himself to walk towards the bench rather than staggering like his body wanted to. The three-minute break after odd-numbered games had never seemed so short before. "The three-set matches are going to kill me," he gasped to his partner as he reached for the water bottle the older boy was holding out towards him.

Their fingers brushed, and despite his exhaustion Ohtori felt his stomach tighten at the contact. He knew Shishido felt it too, because their eyes met for one electric moment before they both looked away. They were usually more careful than this about avoiding contact, but they were both tired and running mostly on adrenalin.

"You're both doing well, despite not being used to the extra sets," Atobe informed them both. Their former captain had volunteered to play bench coach for them, since they didn't have a real coach and he'd been planning to attend the match anyway. "You only need to take one more game. They're as tired as you are."

Glancing across the court to where their opponents were discussing strategy with their own coach, Ohtori doubted it. They were breathing hard and sweating, yes, but not as utterly exhausted as Shishido and Ohtori were. They were older, seventeen and eighteen, and they'd been playing in three set match tournaments for years already.

For Shishido and Ohtori, it was their first tournament match since the Nationals almost a year ago, and the first time they'd played three sets outside of a practice. They'd debated long and hard and finally chosen to enter the under-18 category in the first citywide tournament, rather than the under-16. It would be far more challenging, but the exposure and the practice would be good for them.

And, as Atobe had pointed out, if they didn't do as well here as they hoped, they could always drop back down to the under-16 category in the next tournament. Better to set their goal high and adjust downwards if necessary than to wonder if they could have done better.

Of course, Ohtori reflected wryly, they wouldn't be having half as much trouble against almost any other set of opponents. Despite their National level ranking in the junior high circuit, he and Shishido were unknowns in these circles and therefore unseeded in this tournament. It was just their bad luck that they'd been pitted against one of the top two seeds in their very first match. These two were expected to at least make it to the finals, if not win the tournament. The fact that Shishido and Ohtori, relative unknowns, had already won one set and were up one game in their third set was drawing a great deal of attention to them.

They'd taken the first set because their opponents had been stupid enough to dismiss them as not being much of a challenge in the beginning. By the time they'd realized their error, Shishido and Ohtori were too far ahead in that set for them to recover.

The second set had gone to the favourites, but Shishido and Ohtori had made them work for it. Thanks mainly to the Scud Serve and Ohtori's vicious volleys, they'd kept all their service games and forced it to a tiebreak round.

And now they were ahead by one game, though unfortunately it was their opponents' turn to serve next. If they were going to take this game, it would be up to Shishido and his speed. These two were far too experienced to allow themselves to be distracted from paying attention to Ohtori, so there would be no easy points scored that way.

"Time's almost up," Atobe told them, taking the now empty water bottles they handed back to him. "Get out there and make Hyoutei proud. You can take this game."

"We can do it," Ohtori agreed, looking from him to Shishido. His partner looked back at him, the familiar fierce light of unshakeable determination in his eyes. Ohtori had seen that look many times, both from his own side of the court and from across the net, but it never failed to rally his own flagging spirits. If Shishido could keep going and not give up, so could he, damn it.

Impulsively he offered his hand in a high five, their new pre-game traditional gesture. It had been hours since the start of the match, but somehow it felt right to do it now, like a reaffirmation of their dedication.

To his gratification Shishido didn't even hesitate, clasping his hand in tennis-calloused fingers and holding tight. He squeezed back, letting the inevitable electric tension between them energize him rather than pulling away from it.

"Let's end this," Shishido growled, his eyes truly alight. With one last squeeze he released Ohtori's hand and turned, striding towards his place at the front of the net.

They hadn't discussed strategy, which was ostensibly what the change court break was supposed to be for; in truth, they didn't need to. Communication between them was at an all time high, and without even looking to check where Shishido had positioned himself Ohtori moved to the center of the baseline. Sure enough when he glanced towards the net he found Shishido directly in front of him, crouched low and close to the net. Australian formation. They'd already used it to good effect in several games of this set. If they could keep their energy and will high, they might be able to use it to win just one more game.

Ohtori fixed his eyes on the shorter of their two opponents, who was now at the baseline preparing to serve. His serve wasn't as fast or heavy as Ohtori's Scud Serve, but it was unpredictable and tended to be too deep for Shishido to catch it, close as he was to the net. That meant it was Ohtori's responsibility to catch and return it to start the volley, and he was determined not to drop the ball.

The sound of the serve echoed over the court; the audience had fallen silent as they watched. This could be the last game of the match - if it was it would be an unprecedented defeat for the older pair.

From somewhere Ohtori dredged up reserves of speed and stamina he hadn't known he possessed. He returned the ball in a low, hard shot, aiming right back at the opposite baseline. And the rally began, as fast and furious as any that had yet been played that day. He and Shishido were determined to take the game and prove themselves once and for all, but their opponents were equally determined not to lose their favoured standing in the tournament.

Love-fifteen. Fifteen-all. Fifteen-thirty. Ohtori could hardly see for the sweat stinging his eyes, and all his air seemed knotted up into the stitch just under his ribs. He made no effort to ease the pain or wipe the sweat away; any momentary lapse could mean their defeat.

Fifteen-forty. Match point. Ohtori could see the tension in the set of Shishido's shoulders, feel the same ache in his own. They were beyond exhausted now, and starting to make mistakes. Their opponents were more than happy to take advantage of their errors; they nearly lost the point when Shishido overextended himself and missed the ball, but Ohtori recovered it and kept the rally alive.

On the next return Ohtori saw an opening and took it, exerting himself to the utmost to try to get into position. Shishido heard his running steps and held back even though he could have returned the ball, trusting that Ohtori had seen some opportunity the older boy had missed.

Lunging forward, his arm extended as far as he could reach, Ohtori cursed when he realized he was still going to be a bare inch short of the sweet spot on impact. He swung anyway, because if he didn't the ball would go out and they'd lose the point.

To his amazement it stayed true, following exactly the course he'd intended it to. The baseline player was just a touch too far onto the same side of the court as his partner, with his momentum going in the wrong direction, leaving the far corner open. The ball streaked towards it even as the two older players swore and scrambled after it, but Ohtori could tell they weren't going to be in time.

He'd overextended himself too far to recover, and he hit the surface of the court with a painful impact that covered the sound of the ref's call. There was a collective gasp and stunned moans mixed with ragged cheers from the crowd, but he couldn't tell if that meant the ball had gone in or out. Distantly he was aware that he'd lost some skin on his knee and was going to have a nasty bruise on his shoulder tomorrow, but at the moment he couldn't feel the pain.

Wildly he sought Shishido's eyes, knowing the look on his partner's face would tell him better than the crowd's reaction what the result of his shot had been. The older boy was watching the far side of the court, but when he turned towards Ohtori the look in his eyes was frustration and weariness, not triumph. Ohtori's heart sank.

"It was out?" he asked, knowing the answer even as he spoke the words.

"Just barely," Shishido sighed, offering him a hand up. Ohtori took it and let the older boy pull him to his feet, though he winced when he put weight on his knee.

Sharp-eyed as ever, Shishido didn't miss the small flinch. "Are you hurt?" he demanded, scowling up at Ohtori. "How bad is it? Do we need a time out?"

"No, it's fine," Ohtori said, testing it gingerly. "I just skinned it, I think." It might well turn out to be wrenched, but with all the adrenalin in his system he couldn't really feel any pain from it. "I can keep going. We just need one more point."

Shishido nodded and squeezed his fingers, and Ohtori flushed as he realized they hadn't released their clasped hands after Shishido had helped him up. "One more point," the older boy echoed, letting go at last. "C'mon, Choutarou. Let's show them what we're really made of. Again!"

'Again!' The echo of that word would haunt Ohtori's nightmares for years to come, he sometimes thought. 'Again!' was what Shishido had shouted each time the Scud Serve had knocked him flat, each time he scrambled back to his feet even as Ohtori begged him to stop for the night. 'Again!' was what had made Shishido the first person ever to return to the Hyoutei Regulars after being dropped. 'Again!' was what had driven Ohtori to keep serving long into the night, until finally he truly mastered the Scud Serve as the first rays of dawn broke the horizon.

And 'Again!' was, by all that was holy, going to win them this game. Taking a deep breath to center himself, Ohtori nodded and returned to his place at the baseline. Thirty-forty. Still match point. If they took this point, they won. If they lost it... the possibility of winning was still there, but he knew they were both too tired to continue much longer. What was more, their opponents knew it as well. It all came down to this point.

Locking eyes across the net with the boy about to serve, Ohtori mentally invited him to bring it on. He and Shishido had been through too much to give up now, damn it!

Fast and implacable, the serve tore across the net. Shishido was already there, dashing to meet it and returning it in a hard shot back past the service line. It was returned immediately, too far to the other side for Shishido to get to it. Not too far for Ohtori to catch it.

It was a short ball, despite being fast. Ohtori had to run forward to meet it before it could bounce twice. He was exhausted enough to be making rookie mistakes, and reaching short balls from the baseline had always been a weakness of his. He opened the face of his racquet too much, turning it up so that the ball bounced high off it instead of shooting straight back over the net. It was a lob that would fall just on the other side of the net.

Against another set of opponents it might even have been a good move. But the player now at the net was a smash specialist, and he'd already demonstrated a couple of signature moves that had won them the second set. Ohtori and Shishido hadn't yet found a way to seal his Spin Smash. The same Spin Smash Ohtori could already see him winding up for as he leapt into the air after the ball.

Mentally castigating himself for the stupid mistake, Ohtori backpedaled frantically. The Spin Smash always landed somewhere back at the baseline, but it went off in an unpredictable direction after that. It had to be caught and returned _before_ it landed - and Ohtori was too far towards the net to get back in time.

He tried anyway, but his exhausted body finally betrayed him. His foot caught on his other ankle and he went town in a tangle of limbs and racquet, striking the same knee much harder on the court. He bit down on a pained cry; this time he was _sure_ it was wrenched. He could have dealt with that, though, if only he'd gotten to the ball in time.

Sprawled over the court, he turned his head to follow the path of the smash, expecting to see it impact and go out to lose them the point. Instead, to his utter shock, there was a blur of motion and suddenly a racquet intersected the ball on its path of descent. Shishido shouted incoherently as he put everything he had into an impossible two-handed return. Ohtori couldn't help but stare in disbelief. Not even Shishido could have gotten back that quickly from the net; he must have anticipated that Ohtori would lob it by mistake and already been moving long before their opponent smashed it back.

For a horrible moment Ohtori thought the ball was too low, that it was going to smack into their side of the net. It struck the top of the net, wobbled...

And went over, dropping almost straight down to hit the court on the other side. Neither of their opponents was able to reach the net before the ball fell and started to roll, though both of them dove for it and they nearly smashed into each other in the attempt.

Ohtori stared, not even making any attempt to get to his feet. The words the ref called didn't make any sense to his exhausted brain, nor did the cheering and yelling of the crowd. He was still trying to force his brain to accept what he was seeing.

" _Choutarou!_ " Shishido's voice, practically in his ear, snapped him back to some semblance of reality. He jerked his gaze around to meet his partner's; the older boy was crouched over him, eying him with worry. "Choutarou, are you okay?"

"We..." Ohtori could hardly even get the words out, it seemed so unbelievable. "We won? It went in, we won?"

Laughing, Shishido bodily hauled him upright enough so the other boy could hug him. "You're damn fucking straight we won! We did it, Choutarou! We beat the favourites, we're going on to the next round!"

 _Finally_ it sank in, and Ohtori all but shouted with joy as he hugged Shishido back fiercely. They'd _won_ \- they'd not only played well, they'd won against someone who, by all rights, should have made it to the finals.

Then Atobe was there, leaning over both of them and irritably ordering Shishido out of the way so the tournament medic could get a look at Ohtori's knee. Instead of moving away Shishido shifted around so he was at Ohtori's back, supporting him so it was easier for him to sit up without trying to move his knee at all.

After a brief examination the medic declared nothing to be damaged. "It's not even sprained, just wrenched a bit," he said. "Put some ice on it after you cool down to deal with any swelling, and stay off it for the night as much as possible. You should be fine by tomorrow."

Sighing with relief, Ohtori nodded. It was spring break, and this tournament was being held every day while the students were out of school. If his knee had been damaged it could have forced them to forfeit the next match.

"Go walk yourselves out," Atobe ordered them. "I'll hold off the crowds and the reporters for now; most of them do understand you need to cool down. Don't take too long, though; you've just made yourselves the rising stars of this tournament."

Ohtori accepted his and Shishido's help up, leaning heavily on his partner once he was up to keep the weight off his knee. Looking around, he was a little surprised to realize just how _many_ of the crowd of people gathered at the edges of the court were reporters and cameramen. Well, of course this tournament was being covered by every tennis publication in the country, even though it was a Tokyo-only tournament. And it made sense that they would be paying close attention to the game being played by one of the best pairs in the tournament. Still Ohtori regarded the whole scene with a sense of disbelief.

"Let's get out of here before they swarm us," Shishido muttered, and Ohtori laughed his agreement. They handed their racquets to Atobe and staggered off, both exhausted almost past their limits.

"I can't believe we won," Ohtori said, eyes sparkling as he limped along at Shishido's side. "I mean, obviously it's what we were aiming for, but... it doesn't seem quite real."

"Better get used to it," Shishido declared, his deep voice full of smug satisfaction. "We're going to take them by storm, Choutarou."

"Yes we are," Ohtori agreed, a truly delighted smile breaking over his face. "Gods, Shishido-san, we really did it!"

They escaped the crowd with surprising ease; from the sounds of it everyone wanted to interview the defeated pair first, trusting that Ohtori and Shishido weren't likely to try to slink off without talking to the press. Theirs wasn't the last match to finish by any means; he could still hear the sounds of balls hitting racquet strings on several of the nearby courts.

"There's an empty court over there," Shishido said, jerking his head at the far side of the complex. There were a couple of smaller half-courts there with practice walls, intended for players to use while warming up. They didn't have rings of bleachers around them, just tall fences to keep stray balls in the area. Because of the way they were arranged in a square around each other, each of the courts had walls blocking the view from two sides; if they went to the outside court chances were good an overeager reporter wouldn't easily be able find them.

Nodding, Ohtori allowed himself to be helped in that direction. As the adrenalin and thrill of victory began to wear off, he found his knee was starting to really ache any time he put his full weight on it. At least Shishido had put on something of a growth spurt, so he was now only a few inches shorter than Ohtori and at a good height to help him.

Of course, having his arm slung over Shishido's shoulder and the older boy supporting him around the waist had problems even if their heights _were_ close enough that he didn't have to bend awkwardly. He flushed as he felt the familiar tingle of contact, his breath coming short not because of his exhaustion, but because of the older boy's proximity.

Once inside the secluded area Shishido helped him walk back and forth along the wall, both of them slowly cooling down as their bodies recovered. "Man, I'm going to sleep well tonight," Shishido commented, his voice slightly strained to Ohtori's ears.

Wondering why the older boy would sound like that, Ohtori glanced down at him and caught Shishido looking up at him from the corner of his eyes. Their gazes met and held for a long, breathless moment, midnight blue to amber brown. They'd stopped moving, Ohtori was vaguely aware in some part of his brain that wasn't occupied with inventing images of Shishido asleep in his bed. Or just in bed, anyway.

 _Gods..._ Ohtori already knew that the sexual tension between them always reached a peak right after they'd been playing. Spending hours so intently focused on each other was bound to have that effect, really. He'd never again made the mistake of showering at the same time as Shishido, and the older boy had likewise been careful not to ever change in front of him, or be around when he was changing. It was something they'd just learned to deal with, avoiding the issue whenever possible and ignoring it when avoidance proved impractical.

At that moment, though, Ohtori was nearly swamped by a wave of sheer longing. They were so close, just inches apart. Inches that could easily be closed... he didn't think they'd ever been quite this close. He could feel Shishido's harsh breath against his face, feel the faint trembling that had started in the older boy's body. "Shishido-san," he murmured, his voice catching on the words. His throat and mouth were dry, and he licked his lips. Shishido's eyes flared wide and darkened at the unthinking gesture, and Ohtori nearly gasped, drowning in lust-filled blue.

It would be so easy to lean down... or even just to stand still, because he was almost certain that Shishido was about to stretch up to meet him...

" _Damn it!_ " Cursing, Shishido broke away abruptly, pulling away so suddenly and completely that Ohtori nearly went over on his ass. He caught himself against the practice wall and stared at his partner, who was now standing several feet away with his fists clenched like he was angry. "Fucking _hell_ Choutarou, don't _do_ that!"

The air caught in Ohtori's throat at the anguished sound of his partner's voice. Shishido sounded like he was in agony, and not a pleasant sort either. "Shishido-san?" he asked, dazed. "I don't... what did I do? Don't do what?" He couldn't _think_ , his system was still reeling from how very close they'd just come to kissing and he felt like he was in shock.

"That!" Shishido almost shouted, gesturing angrily at him. When Ohtori only blinked at him in incomprehension, the older boy growled and yanked his cap off, raking a hand through his hair.

"Don't _look_ at me like that," he elaborated roughly. "You... you looked like you were waiting for me to ravish you. Like you wouldn't have said 'no' if I did, damn it."

Ohtori flushed with guilt and not-so-hidden longing, and he ducked his head in shame. Much as he'd have liked to deny it, he didn't want to lie to his partner. And it wouldn't have worked anyway; Shishido knew him too well.

"Look," Shishido sighed, coming to stand just out of easy reach in front of him. "You know I want you bad, Choutarou. Sometimes I wish I could have just stayed stupidly oblivious, because this sure hurts like fucking hell at times. Except then you and I would still be fighting, and anything is worth getting past that. But I'm only human."

Looking up slightly, Ohtori saw that Shishido was giving him a helpless look. The younger boy swallowed hard, because Shishido's eyes were still wide and dark with lust, and Ohtori could _see_ him trembling as he fought for restraint. Ohtori's mouth parted slightly as he stared, riveted by the sight, and Shishido cursed again.

"Fucking... don't you _get_ it?" he snarled, slamming his hands onto the wall on either side of Ohtori's shoulders. They both knew Ohtori wasn't really trapped; he was more than strong enough to get out if he wanted to. They also both knew he wasn't going to move, transfixed by Shishido's outraged and desperate stare.

"Listen to me," the older boy ground out. "And pay attention, because I'm not going to say this again. I don't know what's going through that head of yours sometimes... maybe you're telling yourself that it's not your fault if _I_ kiss _you_ , or something like that. Well, bullshit. You know Amano wouldn't see it that way, and you know he'd be right not to because it doesn't work like that."

Shishido was so close, and Ohtori couldn't remember ever seeing him so infuriated. He was just as glad he had the wall to lean against, because _both_ his knees were threatening to give out on him. His breaths were coming in shallow little pants in a fast counterpoint to Shishido's ragged gasps.

"It's not fair, Choutarou," the older boy continued, voice low and intense. "It's not fair to Amano, or to me. You're better than this. Stop relying on _my_ restraint to keep you out of trouble... because it's not going to keep working much longer."

Shivering, Ohtori had to try twice before his voice would work. "I can't _not_ react to you, Shishido-san," he whispered, unable to raise his volume any more than that.

"I know that, and we've done a pretty good job of dealing with it before this," Shishido acknowledged, his eyes narrowing. "But you've been tempting fate a lot more often lately, Choutarou. You know you have, and it's got to stop. I can't take much more of this, no matter how much I don't want to fuck up our partnership again."

"I..." He was right, Ohtori realized miserably. Looking back on their interaction over the last few weeks since his birthday, he _had_ been putting himself more and more often in positions where he would get to touch Shishido, or Shishido would have to be close to him. It had been subconscious, at least mostly... but that didn't change the fact that Shishido was right. It wasn't fair of him to tease like that.

"I'm sorry," he said miserably, lowering his eyes again. "I just... it's..." _It's hard for me,_ he wanted to say, but he bit back the words. Searching for excuses for his bad behaviour wasn't fair, either. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'll stop, I promise."

"All right." Shishido studied him for a long moment, not moving away. Ohtori's breath kept catching in his throat, and he felt like he couldn't get enough air. Why wasn't he moving away? Why weren't either of them moving? Shouldn't they have been carefully separating themselves, after what they'd just agreed on?

"Choutarou." Shishido's voice was husky, and Ohtori looked up without thinking. He was trapped for real this time, caught in the dusky blue of Shishido's eyes and the wistful, longing expression on the older boy's face. He was leaning in, slowly, his eyes never leaving Ohtori's as he closed the distance between them.

Had he decided to steal one kiss after all, while he still had the chance? Ohtori was confused, and part of him desperately wanted to grab the offered opportunity. But Shishido had been right; it wasn't fair to _any_ of them for him to allow this to happen.

"No," he rasped, turning his face away. Somehow he found the strength to lift his hands, setting them on Shishido's shoulders and holding him at bay. He couldn't push him away entirely, he didn't have the will to do that much, but he did stop him from coming closer. "Shishido-san, no. We can't." His voice broke on the words, and he bit his lip.

Taking a deep breath, Shishido moved back a step, Ohtori's hands still on his shoulders. "Good. Now maybe we can get on with our friendship and get things back on an even keel."

Disbelieving, Ohtori stared at him. "You were _testing_ me?" he asked, shocked. "What would you have done if I hadn't pushed you away?"

Shishido gave him a quirky grin in response. "I'd have stopped - this time," he added in a tone of warning. "But don't push me, Choutarou. My self-control isn't infinite, and you've been stretching it in one way or another since the day you confessed to me. If we give in to this, however much we both want it, it'll destroy us. Because you're not the kind of guy that can mess around behind his boyfriend's back... and I'm not the kind of guy who can settle for being the secret fling."

"You both deserve better," Ohtori agreed with a sigh. "I wish my attraction to you had died when I got over the infatuation; it would have made things so much simpler. But you're still as beautiful as you ever were."

To his surprise, his words made Shishido blush and turn away. "C'mon, we've got interviews to give," the older boy said, tugging his cap back into place. He headed for the door to the court, and Ohtori limped slowly after him.

His heart felt like it was somewhere in his stomach, and he cursed his wayward hormones. Not for the first time since they'd repaired their friendship he wondered if his infatuation with Shishido might not be quite as dead as he'd like to believe.

Or, maybe worse, if it hadn't been reborn as something else entirely.


	16. Chapter 16

When the doorbell rang Ohtori was pacing back and forth in the front hall, trying to tell himself he wasn't nervous about what he was planning. There was nothing to be nervous _about_ , or so he kept repeating until the words had nearly become a mantra. His stomach didn't seem to be quite convinced, though, nor did his sweating palms.

Even though he was expecting it, the sound of the bell startled him so badly he actually jumped. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his hands on his jeans and went to answer it. This was stupid, he was going to ruin everything.

"Hey," he greeted Amano as the door opened. His boyfriend was dressed in pressed slacks and a polo shirt; for Amano that _was_ casual. Ohtori had to smile as he saw it, and the simple familiarity of it calmed him somewhat.

"Hey," Amano replied, stepping inside and setting his duffle bag down while he kicked off his shoes. The smaller boy was wearing his hair up again, and Ohtori watched the way the long dark strands of the ponytail slid over his shoulders as he moved. "So what's the deal with this weekend?" the pianist wanted to know, straightening and picking up his bag again. "We don't usually bother with inviting each other, we just crash wherever we are."

"Yeah, but I wanted to make sure it was my place we crashed at," Ohtori explained, grinning at him and leading the way deeper into the house. When Amano looked at him curiously, he elaborated, "My family is gone for the weekend. It's my grandmother's birthday, they took her up to a hot spring to celebrate."

From nowhere his cat Karasu appeared, running straight to Amano and twining around his ankles. Ohtori had to stifle a snicker at the long-suffering look on his boyfriend's face. It wasn't that Amano disliked cats or anything; he was just allergic to them and so tried to stay away from them, but Karasu seemed to insist on being near him any time he came over. The funniest part was that Shishido loved cats, and Karasu wouldn't have anything to do with him. Ohtori had long suspected the feline of possessing a rather large sadistic streak.

"So nobody is going to be here but us all weekend?" Amano asked to be sure, his expression slowly turning from thoughtful to wicked. "That could be... fun." Ohtori shivered at the heated look in the other boy's eyes. "How did you convince them to leave you behind?"

"I told them I have a game tomorrow," Ohtori replied, laughing. "They already know better than to try to get me to go anywhere if I've got a match scheduled." He opened the door to his room, let Amano follow him through and then nudged the cat back outside with his foot before closing the door. Having the pianist sniffling and sneezing all weekend would _not_ be conducive to his plans.

When he looked up again, Amano had turned away from him to set his bag beside the bed. There was a tension to the other boy's shoulders that hadn't been there a minute ago. "So what time do you have to meet Shishido tomorrow, then? I guess I probably shouldn't wear you out _too_ much..."

It was obvious the pianist was trying to keep the resentment out of his tone, but he wasn't succeeding very well. Sighing, Ohtori moved to wrap his arms around the smaller boy from behind, pulling him into an embrace. Amano resisted, staying stiff in his arms rather than leaning back against him.

"Kazuya, I know I've been neglecting you lately," Ohtori said softly, nuzzling into the soft strands of the pianist's hair. "I'm sorry, I really am. That tournament was brutal; I don't ever want to play matches on so many consecutive days again."

Between the extra training they'd put into the weeks before the tournament and how tired he'd been afterwards, Ohtori had barely seen or even spoken to his boyfriend for the entire spring break. In the end he and Shishido had eventually been eliminated in the quarterfinals, by the pair who would eventually go on to win the tournament. It was a result they were both happy with, especially considering the level they'd been playing at.

And it had gotten them a lot of attention from the tennis world in Tokyo. They'd been featured in a couple of articles and given several interviews, and if they played as well in the next tournament they might even end up being seeded after that.

It all took up a lot of time, though, and Ohtori really did feel bad about how little energy he'd had left over for Amano. He intended to make up for that this weekend, at least a little.

His words didn't seem to appease his boyfriend though, for the shorter boy remained tense in his embrace. "You say that now, but you're already starting a new tournament, aren't you? I never get to _see_ you anymore, Choutarou! We don't have music and you're always training after school. People have been asking me if we broke up because they never see us together any more. We're not even in the same class now!"

Sighing, Ohtori held him a little tighter. Despite Shishido helping him to study he hadn't done as well on the exams as he'd have liked, and he'd placed in the 3-2 class while Amano remained in 3-1. It had disappointed his parents as well, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. Unfortunately it did mean that he never saw Amano anymore unless they made a real effort to get together outside of school, and this was the first weekend since the new year started that he'd had a chance.

"Kazuya, I invited you over so we _could_ spend some time together," Ohtori said wearily. "Are we going to waste all of it arguing about how we never spend time together any more?"

"I just..." Amano's voice broke, and Ohtori winced. He really needed to learn to manage his time better. He hadn't meant to hurt the other boy so badly. "I just feel like you're slipping away from me. We used to spend so much time together, and now I can't even have you for a whole weekend any more!"

With an effort Ohtori took the shorter boy by the shoulders and turned him around so they could look at each other. Amano resisted, but Ohtori was more than strong enough to just pick him up and move him if he had to, though thankfully it didn't come to that. Miserable silver eyes stared up at him, suspiciously shiny as if Amano was holding back tears with an effort of will.

"You do have me for the whole weekend," Ohtori told him softly. "I don't have a game with Shishido-san tomorrow, Kazuya, I just told my parents that so I wouldn't have to go with them. I'm not even training with him at all this weekend; I told him and Atobe that I needed a break before I started to forget what you look like."

Firmly he told his nerves to go to hell; there was nothing else he could think of that would both reassure and make it up to Amano half as well. Not to mention hopefully easing some of the guilt he'd been feeling about the fact that he couldn't stop being attracted to his partner. He was ready for this, he _was_.

Astonishment spread over Amano's expression and Ohtori smiled down at him, lifting his chin with gentle fingers so he could lean down and kiss him briefly. "I'm all yours, Kazuya. My parents probably won't be home until after dinner tomorrow. Two whole days where I don't intend to think about anybody but you and me."

"Choutarou..." Amano shook his head as if to clear it of a daze, then pushed up to meet his lips again in a more passionate kiss. "I'm sorry," he said when they pulled apart again, breathing a little harder. "Here I've been bitching at you when you'd done something so nice - I don't know how you put up with me sometimes."

"Because I care about you," Ohtori said firmly. Biting his lip, he steeled himself and then added softly, "Because I love you, Kazuya." It felt odd to say it after all this time, but he was being so silly about it and it was past time for him to stop. If what he felt for Amano wasn't the kind of all-encompassing adoration he'd had for Shishido last year, that didn't mean it wasn't love. What he'd felt for Shishido had been infatuation, and that wasn't really love either.

"You..." Clearly delighted, Amano threw his arms around the taller boy's shoulders and kissed him again, hard. "You said it! You really said it!" Once again Ohtori felt guilty; Amano had always assured him that he understood Ohtori's reluctance to commit himself verbally like that, but it was obvious it had been bothering the pianist more than he let on. Ohtori had always believed that actions meant more than words, since it was much more difficult to lie with your actions, but it seemed the words meant more to Amano than he'd realized.

Maybe, now that he'd finally heard them, he would feel a bit less insecure about Shishido. Leaning down Ohtori kissed him again, drawing it out and teasing with his tongue a bit this time. He'd discovered, much to his pleasure, that he really _enjoyed_ kissing and as a result he'd gotten very good at it. Sometimes he thought it felt more intimate than anything else they'd yet done, because it created a visceral connection between them, a give and take that was more immediate than simple touch could reproduce.

Of course, there were a few things they _hadn't_ done yet which would probably create the same feeling on a much greater scale. Ignoring the butterflies that seemed to be colonizing his stomach at a rapid rate, he pulled back a bit and bent his head to nibble along the curve of Amano's ear, something he knew drove the other boy crazy. "Since we don't have to worry about staying quiet for once, I thought maybe... it would be a good time to take things farther?"

"What?" Wide-eyed, Amano turned to face him, and Ohtori stopped teasing for the moment. "Choutarou, are you sure? You're ready?"

The pianist had made it clear some time ago that _he_ was ready to finish what they'd started, but he'd also made it equally clear that he was more than willing to wait for Ohtori to feel the same. Amano was almost a year older than Ohtori, in fact his birthday was less than a week away, and the difference in their ages had always been most obvious in terms of their sexual maturity. Ohtori had always felt somewhat guilty for teasing the other boy, but also grateful that Amano never, _ever_ pushed him beyond what he was ready for.

"I'm ready," Ohtori agreed, though part of him was still wondering if he really was. He squashed that part firmly. It was normal to be a little nervous your first time, but he couldn't let it hold him back forever. He knew his parents would say he was far too young to be doing something like this, but he also knew several other people his own age who'd already gone this far, or at least claimed they had. He'd always been considered mature for his age; he could handle this, damn it.

Hopefully, this would help fix some of the insecurity issues that plagued his relationship with Amano. The pianist knew how seriously Ohtori took this, so how could he continue to doubt Ohtori's dedication to him after this?

"I'm ready," he repeated softly, firmly. "Consider it an early birthday present, if you like. I want this, Kazuya. I want you. I love you. And I'm sorry I've been so difficult lately, I know I've put you through a lot."

"No more than I've put you through, being so jealous," Amano countered wryly. "Nobody's perfect, Choutarou, least of all us. But the important thing is that we work through it and forgive each other, right?"

Nodding, Ohtori dropped his arms so he could wrap his hands around the curve of Amano's slim hips, his fingers teasing at the back of his waistband. Amano shivered, and Ohtori gave him an impish grin. "So, did you want to go watch a movie or something?" he asked innocently. "Maybe practice music together for a while? We just had our piano tuned, it sounds really good now."

"Tease," Amano accused him, making him laugh. "Tell me you're not going to make me wait for dark and then ask to turn out the lights so I can't see you."

"Have I ever been shy?" Ohtori countered, amused. "We've done damn near everything else with the lights on, why would I suddenly insist on being in the dark now?" Tightening his grip, he lifted the smaller boy easily off his feet. With a startled noise Amano clung to his neck, and he took the few steps necessary to tumble them both onto the bed. He was careful to land beside Amano rather than on him, already searching for his lips as they hit the soft comforter.

They kissed passionately for a long while, hands wandering over clothing as they just re-familiarized themselves with each other. It had been far too long since the last time they'd had a chance to touch each other, Ohtori reflected as he shifted hungrily against the other boy. They had to be so careful not to raise suspicion, to make sure that their families would never hear or interrupt them. Putting everything he had into the kiss, Ohtori tried to convey how much he'd missed this, the feeling of intimate connection between them.

Briefly his mind flashed to the moment when he and Shishido had almost kissed after that first match. He hadn't been able to stop himself from wondering, frequently, what it would have been like if they hadn't pulled away. Would there have been this same sense of intensity, the same intimacy? Would it have been different, and if so, how? Considering the synchronicity that already existed between the two of them, Ohtori was almost scared to contemplate what would happen if they connected further.

Now was _not_ the time to be thinking about it, however, and he shoved the thought firmly out of his mind. Here and now, the only thing he should be thinking about was Amano, and making it up to his boyfriend for the way he'd been neglecting him lately.

Focusing his attention on the boy in his arms instead of the one in his memory, Ohtori did his best to drive Amano wild by kissing alone. He loved doing this and he'd learned all the best places to rub or flick his tongue against, how to nibble slightly at the other boy's bottom lip, and just generally drive him insane. It frustrated Amano to no end when he did it, especially since he just didn't have the patience necessary to learn how to torment Ohtori the same way.

The one time when he'd asked - _outside_ a make-out session - if Amano wanted him to stop doing it, though, the pianist had looked at him like he was crazy. From that Ohtori had inferred that his boyfriend _liked_ being teased past endurance, and he was certainly more than happy to oblige.

Finally, when Amano was making desperate little whining noises in the back of his throat and had been reduced to clutching helplessly at Ohtori's shoulders, the taller boy took pity on him. Pulling away slightly, both of them panting hard, he looked down into dazed silver eyes. "Clothes off," he demanded more than suggested, tugging at Amano's shirt to try to get it untucked from the slacks.

Laughing, Amano recovered his senses a bit and reached for the button of Ohtori's jeans. "I thought I was the impatient one?" he teased as they rapidly shed their clothes, often getting tangled as they attempted to 'help' each other. "You'd think _I_ was the one who'd been holding back and who liked driving _you_ crazy."

"You should know me well enough to realize that once I decide to do something, I put everything I have into it," Ohtori countered, brown eyes dark and shining with lust. They'd done all this before, many times now. It was familiar territory and if he concentrated on that rather than worrying about what was still to come, he found he wasn't nearly as nervous.

Distracted by his thoughts, Ohtori gasped when he felt his cock wrapped in Amano's hand. The other boy had pianist's fingers, long and slender and sensitive. Unlike Ohtori whose palms were calloused from tennis and left fingers calloused from the violin strings, Amano's skin was soft and smooth and felt amazingly good and different against him.

"My turn," Amano murmured, his tone wicked as he leaned in to lick and nibble at Ohtori's collarbone and the hollow of his throat. He stroked his hand slowly over Ohtori's cock, far too slowly to satisfy, and Ohtori whimpered and tossed his head back against the pillow. If Ohtori was the best one at kissing, Amano was unarguably the better of the two of them at this, at knowing just how to touch and glide and stroke to wring the most sensation from Ohtori's trembling body.

"Kazuya," he moaned, trying to arch his hips up to get more contact. Amano pulled his hand away entirely until Ohtori subsided again, his whimpers increasing in volume. When he returned his hand to the taller boy's cock, Ohtori retaliated by reaching for his in turn.

He was a little surprised by just how aroused Amano obviously was. He was hard and dripping, clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock fast enough to make it much easier for Ohtori's hand to slide against him. Usually it took the smaller boy a while to get to this point, and Ohtori looked at him curiously.

Amano smiled wryly back at him, lust burning in his eyes and making them seem even brighter than they usually did. "You think you can offer yourself to me like that and I'm not going to react? Gods, Choutarou, do you have any idea how often I've fantasized about doing this with you?"

The reminder of what they intended to do made Ohtori a little nervous again, but the heated look Amano was giving him turned the butterflies in his stomach into a much more pleasant twisting sensation. "I've thought about it too," he confessed softly. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long."

"Don't be sorry," Amano shook his head immediately, fingers squeezing briefly and making Ohtori cry out. "Pushing you into it wouldn't have been any fun for me, Choutarou. It was worth it to wait." Leaning in, he licked at Ohtori's sensitive neck again, increasing his pace slightly and making the taller boy pant with need. "I'm going to make you feel so good you'll wonder why you ever hesitated, though."

Grateful there was nobody home to hear the rather undignified noises he was making, Ohtori tossed his head against the pillow and ran his free hand through Amano's long ponytail. "If you tease me too much we'll end up having to wait after all," he warned, his voice tight. It had been far too long, and his own hand and fantasies just weren't as satisfying as being with his boyfriend. He always took a while to recover after coming, though, and was often far too sensitive to bear further touch for a while.

Despite the fact that he was the one giving the warning, he still moaned in protest when Amano released him. "We need... you know, lubricant, or something," Amano said, looking no less worked up than Ohtori felt. "Otherwise it'll hurt you, won't it?"

"I don't know any more about this than you do," Ohtori reminded him, breathless with something that didn't quite feel like anticipation. Locker room jokes and dirty stories had given him a basic idea of what went where, and given the fact that he was on the _tennis_ team, not to mention the orchestra, he'd probably heard more about it than most boys his age. He'd also heard that you had to have something to make it easier or it would hurt, but he hadn't been able to work up the nerve to go into a drugstore and buy the real thing. His height made him look older than he was, but it didn't stop him from being horribly flustered at the very idea.

Thankfully, he'd also heard that it didn't _have_ to be the real thing to work just as well. "I've got some Vaseline," he said, ducking his head in embarrassment and almost mumbling the words. "In the bedside table."

Chuckling, Amano ran his fingers gently over Ohtori's face. "You're so adorable when you're embarrassed," the pianist said, and Ohtori of course blushed more. Reaching across the bed, Amano fumbled in the drawer and finally emerged with the small jar Ohtori had swiped from the bathroom.

Unscrewing the cap, Amano dipped his fingers into the waxy gel. The distinctive scent filled the air around them, and Ohtori wrinkled his nose slightly, which made Amano laugh at him again. "You sure about this?" his boyfriend asked him seriously one last time. "We can still stop now, just do what we usually do."

 _No,_ some small, frightened part of Ohtori's mind whimpered. _No, I'm not ready, it's too soon. Too much, too fast... I don't want to do this!_

Taking a deep breath, Ohtori once again shoved that part of him away and ignored it. "I'm ready," he forced himself to say, his voice shaking only a bit. It pleased him that Amano had given him another chance to change his mind, but he knew if he backed out _now_ it would just hang between them, souring their relationship further. He could do this. It wasn't like it was something horrible that was going to happen, after all. He needed to stop acting like a shy schoolgirl.

"All right," Amano agreed, some of the tension in his face relaxing at Ohtori's agreement, and Ohtori knew he'd made the right choice. "I guess... you're supposed to turn over?" the pianist continued uncertainly.

"I think so," Ohtori nodded, equally unsure. This was totally uncharted territory for both of them, and they were going to have to make most of it up as they went. Surely it couldn't be _that_ hard to figure out. Boys had been doing this for thousands of years, and he would bet most of them had even less idea of what to do than Ohtori and Amano did.

He rolled over onto his stomach and lifted himself up on hands and knees. It felt awkward, and he wished he could see Amano's face, but he could see why this position would be most convenient for what they were doing.

Shivers wracked his spine as he felt something large and hard press against his ass, gliding gently between the cheeks. The Vaseline made the motion easy and almost frictionless, but it was still a little daunting. Ohtori had thought he was intimately familiar with his boyfriend's cock, but what was pressing against him now felt _much_ larger than he'd expected. How exactly was that supposed to fit inside him?

"Relax," Amano whispered, leaning over him and positioning himself with one hand. "Relax, Choutarou. I don't want to hurt you."

"I trust you," Ohtori replied, his voice breaking on the words as he felt the intrusion into his body. Bracing himself, he tried to force himself to relax as Amano pushed inside him past the tight ring of muscle.

It hurt... oh _gods_ , it hurt. It felt like he was being torn in half, and he bit his lip until it bled to stop the pained noises that wanted to escape him. His fists clenched in the sheets and he panted raggedly as Amano kept pressing forward. He wanted to cry out for the other boy to stop, to say that it hurt too much and he didn't want to do this any more.

Instead he gritted his teeth and hung on, refusing to allow even the slightest sound of pain to escape him. People did this _all the time_ , and most of them enjoyed it enough to want to do it frequently. Surely it was going to get better once he got past this initial agony. It _had_ to.

For some reason his mind produced the memory of Shishido lying battered and bruised on the court, knocked flat once again by another Scud Serve. He'd seen the agony in the senior's eyes, seen how much effort it took to stagger to his feet and shout 'Again!'. Ohtori could only imagine how much it would hurt to get hit by his serve, but surely it had to be worse than this.

The image helped him hang on to his determination to see this through, and _finally_ Amano came to rest against his back, as far inside as he could be. Ohtori could feel the smaller boy shaking against him, and for a startled moment he wondered if it hurt as much for his boyfriend as it did for him. "Kazuya?"

"Choutarou." The sound of his name was little more than a gasp, but Ohtori couldn't mistake the tone for pain if he'd tried. Amano was shaking with the effort to restrain himself for Ohtori's sake, not because it hurt. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Ohtori lied, forcing his voice to stay steady. It _burned_ , and all the jokes he'd heard about people 'walking funny' suddenly made a great deal more sense, as well as being a whole lot less funny. He was grateful he'd had the foresight to do this when he would _not_ be training with Shishido the next day because he doubted very much that he'd be able to _move_ tomorrow, let alone run around on the courts.

Somehow, despite the fact that Amano was buried inside him there was none of the sense of connection Ohtori had been expecting. Mostly it just hurt and felt oddly full. When Amano started to move over him with increasingly powerful thrusts Ohtori moaned and bit his lip again, struggling to keep his ragged panting from turning into pained sobs. He clung to that memory of Shishido, the determination and resolve that had carried the older boy through pain far worse than this. He could do this, he _could_.

The first touch on his cock startled him into crying out. He'd gone mostly soft with the pain, but as Amano stroked him in time with his thrusts he slowly hardened again. Some of the pain faded at last, and was replaced with pleasure. He relaxed a bit and that helped even more, making it easier for Amano to move inside him.

It still hurt, but now it felt good too. He couldn't imagine why some people seemed so eager to do this at every possible opportunity, but it wasn't so bad. And it was clear from the noises Amano was making that it _was_ amazingly good for the person on top. Too good, maybe; his boyfriend sounded like he was hanging onto his restraint by teeth and nails. Ohtori resolved to think of it somewhat like a blowjob - something that wasn't exactly enjoyable for him but was worth it for the pleasure it brought his boyfriend.

"Choutarou, you have to..." Amano panted, increasing the pace of his strokes even as the rhythm began to falter. "Please, I can't... I can't hold on much longer..."

"I can't," Ohtori murmured, shaking his head. He was still much too far from the edge, even though he was starting to feel more pleasure than pain. "Go ahead Kazuya, it's all right."

"But!" Amano protested almost incoherently. Ohtori was touched by the fact that the other boy wanted to hold out until Ohtori had taken his pleasure as well, but he mostly just wanted this to be _over_ now. He tilted his hips up, hoping the sudden change would be enough to push his boyfriend over the edge.

They both cried out at the same time; Amano because Ohtori had accomplished his objective and sent him tumbling into orgasm, and Ohtori because the altered angle had caused Amano to brush against something inside him that made him see stars. Literally; bright bursts of colour exploded against his tightly closed eyelids.

Amano thrust twice more before he finally collapsed, spent, and each motion dragged the head of his cock over that exquisitely sensitive place inside Ohtori again. Shivering at the sudden onslaught of unexpected pleasure, Ohtori moaned when it stopped and left him feeling only the slow burn again.

All right, maybe this wasn't _entirely_ one-sided after all. If he'd been feeling that with every thrust right from the start, Ohtori thought he might have been the first one to come despite the initial agony of it. Dazed by the combination of pleasure and pain, Ohtori trembled as he struggled to hold both their weight on his shaky arms.

"Kazuya..." it came out as a whine, and Ohtori swallowed. Now that the other boy wasn't moving any more the pain was fading, leaving him suffering the aftereffects of that starburst of pleasure. Amano had stopped stroking him, and his hand was just loosely clasped around Ohtori's cock as the smaller boy tried to recover from what had apparently been a very intense orgasm.

"Sorry," Amano gasped, his hand tightening and starting to move again. Ohtori shuddered with pleasure, focusing on the familiar feel of his boyfriend's hand around him instead of the full ache still reminding him of what they'd done. Amano's movements became steadier as he recovered, and Ohtori's breathing quickened as he finally neared the edge again.

He cried out as his body spasmed and contracted around Amano's softening cock, making pain spike briefly through him again. It wasn't enough to deter his orgasm, though, and he came all over Amano's hand and the comforter beneath them. It wasn't the best he'd ever experienced, not by a long shot, but it wasn't the worst either. He suspected that if Amano had still been hitting that spot inside him when he came it would have been really intense, though. The thought was appealing enough that he found he was willing to do this again, even though he'd at first thought that there was no _way_ he'd want to repeat this experience.

His arms gave out on him at last, and Ohtori collapsed down onto the bed. The movement made Amano slip out of him with one last frisson of pain, but Ohtori barely registered it this time through the haze of orgasm. He did make a face as he realized he was lying in the wet spot, however.

"I'm sorry," Amano apologized softly, slowly moving off him to lie beside him. Ohtori wrapped the smaller boy in his arms and pulled him close, tucking Amano's head under his chin and just focusing on the familiar touch of his boyfriend's body against his.

"It's okay," Ohtori assured him, nuzzling his hair. "Really, it is. We're both new at this, we'll figure it out." That part of him that had objected earlier was protesting that he wasn't sure he wanted to do this again, no matter how good it had felt at the end, but it was getting fainter and easier to ignore. He'd taken the biggest step; he'd done it the first time. Whatever reservations he might have had about it were irrelevant now. They'd done it once, so it would be pretty stupid for him to object to doing it again. What possible reason could he give? It would only make Amano convinced once more that Ohtori was losing interest in him.

An odd sensation struck him, and he blinked. Then made a face. "Uh... I think... I need to go clean up," he said in a bit of a rush. Amano stared at him in confusion as he pulled away and scrambled off the bed, then started laughing in realization. Muttering something uncomplimentary back at his boyfriend, Ohtori bolted for the bathroom. It hadn't occurred to him that what Amano left behind in him wasn't just going to _stay_ there. Oh, the things the movies and locker room jokes _didn't_ tell you.

When he returned a few minutes later with a sheepish expression on his face, Amano had pulled the comforter off and bundled it into the laundry. The pianist was lying beneath the rest of the sheets, waiting for him with an amused look still on his face. The amusement faded a bit as he saw the stiff way Ohtori was walking, though. "Sore?" he asked, sitting up and pushing his now messy ponytail back off his shoulder.

"A bit," Ohtori admitted in an understatement. He crawled under the sheets and settled in, pulling Amano close against him once more. "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine. I'm not hurt, just... stretched." Though after the way it had hurt at first, he'd been more than a little relieved not to see any blood as he'd cleaned himself up. He wasn't going to admit that part, though. Amano would only feel guilty, and there was no real reason for him to.

"I love you, Choutarou," the pianist said, sighing in what sounded like contentment as he rested his head on Ohtori's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Love you, too," Ohtori echoed, the words still feeling strange but coming a bit more easily now. He felt Amano smile into his shoulder, and couldn't help smiling a bit as well. He was sore, and exhausted, and _very_ glad he didn't have a match or practice tomorrow. But he'd made Amano happy again, and that was worth a little discomfort on his part.

Privately however, he resolved not to ever, _ever_ mention that it had been an image of Shishido that had gotten him through the toughest parts.


	17. Chapter 17

The sharp, shrill sound of his cell phone ringing jerked Ohtori out of a completely exhausted slumber. Really, he thought muzzily to himself as he tried to drag himself the rest of the way out of sleep so he could find the phone, he should to know better than to not go to bed early the night before a match. An important match, no less.

But Amano was so, well... tempting, when he wanted to be, and he was always most eager right before Ohtori had to go off to spend time with Shishido. A last remnant of the jealousy, he supposed, but one he couldn't really object to. Even if it did leave him rather more tired than he ought to be the next day.

The phone stopped ringing, and Ohtori gave up on the effort to wake himself. He was too tired even to be able to recognize who was calling by the ringtone. He snuggled back into the pillows, drifting off again. The alarm would wake him in plenty of time to get to the match. Whoever was calling him would just have to wait until then.

At least having a match the next day gave him an ironclad reason not to agree to go all the way with Amano. They'd gotten much better at sex - helped a great deal by the fact that unlike Ohtori, Amano wasn't too shy to just walk into a drugstore and buy lubricant. Although Ohtori had come to enjoy it when he was able to come with Amano rubbing over that spot inside him, it still hurt a great deal at the beginning and left him sore afterwards. He didn't like doing it very often, which had gotten him into a couple of arguments with Amano, but even his over-eager boyfriend had to admit that it left him in no condition to play tennis afterwards.

The phone rang again, startling him back out of the doze he'd fallen into. Sighing, he gave in. If it was important enough for the person to keep trying, he probably ought to answer it. Groaning, he leaned down off the bed and fished for the pants that had been somewhat hastily discarded the night before. He finally found them and fumbled the phone out of the pocket just before it would have gone to voicemail again.

"Ohtori," he mumbled, slumping back onto the mattress and rubbing at his eyes, wondering who was calling him so damn early. From behind him Amano wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled close, still mostly asleep as well.

"Choutarou, where the hell are you?" Shishido's half-frantic voice came from the other end. "You sound like you're still asleep!"

"Shishido-san?" he said, surprised. He felt Amano stiffen against him and knew his boyfriend was completely awake now, and probably listening hard. He yawned and forced his eyes open. "I _am_ still asleep. Why do you sound so panicked?"

"Because if you're not here in twenty fucking minutes we forfeit the damn match!" Shishido snapped, his words jolting Ohtori much closer to full wakefulness.

"What?" Ohtori half sat up, looking blearily around the room for the clock. "What time is it?"

"Twenty to ten," Amano and Shishido replied on the same breath. _That_ was more than enough to do the job of pulling Ohtori into full awareness.

" _What?_ " Disbelieving, he bolted upright, turning to stare both at the clock and his boyfriend. "What the hell? Kazuya, I thought I told you to set the alarm for eight!"

The pianist muttered something vaguely defensive about the alarm not going off, and Ohtori uttered a rare curse. "Damn it. I'll be there, Shishido-san, don't worry." He was already scrambling out of bed, reaching for his clothes. Screw showering and brushing his teeth, he could do that later at the facilities of the club where the tournament was being held.

There was silence for a long moment on the other end, and Ohtori suspected his partner was absorbing the knowledge that Ohtori obviously hadn't spent the night alone, and probably not in his own bed, either. "It's more than twenty minutes from where you are to here, isn't it?" he asked at last.

"I'll find a way," Ohtori promised grimly. "Stall them if you can!" He knew the request was pointless even as he made it. Tournament rules were bent for no one, not even semi-finalists.

"Kazuya, your father has a car, doesn't he?" he asked as he shut his phone and dropped it into his pocket before pulling the pants on quickly. "Could you please ask him if he'd be willing to drive me over to the club? I can't _believe_ the alarm didn't go off!"

"What's the big deal?" Amano wanted to know, watching his frantic haste with a puzzled air and making no move to get himself out of bed. "I thought you said your game probably wouldn't even start until noon."

"The game doesn't start until noon, but registration ends at ten," Ohtori replied tightly. "If I'm not there to sign in, Shishido-san and I have to forfeit the match. _Please_ go ask him, Kazuya." He'd call a cab if he had to, but they were expensive and he'd have to wait for it to get here. If his boyfriend's father would drive him he should just barely make it in time, he didn't have a moment to waste.

"You have to what?" Finally Amano was moving, sliding out of the bed and grabbing for his own clothes. "That's stupid! Why should it matter if you're there early or not, as long as you're there for the game?"

"Because they want to be sure the game will happen," Ohtori explained, his voice somewhat muffled as he pulled his shirt on. He didn't bother to tuck it into his slacks, taking the time to search for his socks instead. "There's all kinds of things that have to be cancelled and arrangements to be made if one of the games doesn't go ahead, especially at this stage. Damn it, where are my socks?"

"My side of the bed, on the floor," Amano said matter-of-factly, pulling the tie out of his messy ponytail and running his fingers through his hair quickly to make himself marginally presentable. "I'll go talk to my dad."

With that he unlocked the door and darted out into the hall, leaving Ohtori behind to finish gathering his things. He stuffed everything important into his tennis bag, knowing he could borrow anything he forgot from Shishido if necessary. So long as he had his racquet and spare, his shoes and his clothes, that was all he really needed.

When he emerged from the bedroom with his tennis bag over his shoulder, looking very harried, he found Amano already waiting with his father in the front hall. "I'm terribly sorry for the imposition, Amano-san," Ohtori apologized to the older man, bowing. "It's very rude of me to ask for help in fixing an error made through my own foolishness."

"It's not an imposition, Ohtori-kun," Amano's father assured him. He was slender and dark, much like his son, but without the delicate features Amano had inherited from his beautiful mother. "I'm glad to help. Hurry now, we don't want you to be late."

Ohtori didn't need to be told twice. He followed them both down to the tiny parking lot of the apartment building where the family car was apparently kept. Not many people in Tokyo really bothered with cars, because the traffic was so bad - how the traffic could be bad when nobody seemed to drive anywhere was something Ohtori had never really understood, but it was just one of those things you took for granted.

Once in the car and heading down the road, Ohtori found his eyes glued to the clock on the dashboard. They had less than fifteen minutes, and the club was fairly far from Amano's home. His hands clenched on the strap of his bag, the nylon handle digging into his skin as his heart pounded in his throat. If they lost this match because he'd been too stupid to double-check the alarm, Shishido was never going to forgive him. He'd never forgive _himself_.

"Relax, Ohtori-kun, we'll make it in time," Amano's father assured him from the front seat. Ohtori looked up from the clock long enough to see the man regarding him with kind eyes in the rearview mirror. "The traffic is light, and I know some shortcuts towards that area."

"Thank you," Ohtori breathed, relaxing slightly. Only slightly; there were half a dozen things that could still conspire to make him late.

"I must admit I'm a little surprised you have a game today," the older man continued blithely, and Ohtori blinked. "I thought you boys were going to a concert this afternoon? Or do I have my dates mixed up?"

"Concert?" Ohtori repeated, surprised. He and Amano _had_ made plans to attend a concert that afternoon, a one day only musical exhibition by a world-famous violinist that Sakaki had recommended to them. They'd bought the tickets months ago, long before Ohtori had even thought about entering this tournament. In all honesty Ohtori hadn't expected it to be a conflict when he and Shishido had signed up for this one, because he hadn't imagined they would make it to the semifinals. This was a much larger tournament than the one they'd first played in, and accordingly attracted much better players.

When they'd won the quarterfinals last weekend, though, Ohtori had given up his concert tickets without a second thought, selling them to another of the former violinists from the orchestra. While he was a bit regretful at missing such a wonderful opportunity, there was no way in hell he was missing the chance to play in the semifinals of such a major tournament. This was the sort of match that scouts and potential sponsors attended, looking for new up-and-coming players. If he and Shishido could get a sponsor they'd be able to attend more and better tournaments, and not be limited to what they could reach from home.

"No sir, I had to give up my ticket when we made it to this round of the tournament," he explained. He caught a glimpse of Amano sinking lower into the front passenger seat, as if he was embarrassed. What would possibly be embarrassing about Ohtori explaining why he wasn't going to the concert?

He had an inkling of the answer when Amano's father answered, "Really? That's strange. It was just yesterday Kazuya was asking me if I could drive you both there, wasn't it?" He glanced at his son, who mumbled something that could have been agreement or denial.

A suspicion started to form in the back of Ohtori's mind, but he couldn't say anything. Not here, not in front of Amano's father. Instead he replied with forced cheer, "I guess he must have forgotten that I couldn't go until I reminded him later that day. It was kind of a sudden change of plans."

If he could have caught Amano's eye he'd have glared a question, but the other boy was very carefully not looking at him. It would have to wait. He settled back in his seat, trying to ignore the sour acid of suspicion and anger building in his stomach.

He didn't get a chance to say anything when they pulled into the parking lot of the club, either, because he had barely two minutes to find the registration desk. He scrambled out of the car almost before it had come to a full stop, thanking Amano's father breathlessly and throwing a belated invitation to stay and watch the game over his shoulder. If he got an answer he didn't hear it, already halfway across the parking lot as he ran full tilt for the door.

The registration desk thankfully wasn't difficult to find, but there was a large crowd of people between him and it and the clock on the high post above it said he had about thirty seconds to get there. For once ignoring his manners, Ohtori made full use of his greater height and weight to shove through the groups of people, heading straight for the desk rather than weaving around the little knots. He didn't even bother muttering apologies to the people left indignant in his wake, too intent on his goal.

"I"m here!" he exclaimed as he finally burst through the last of the crowd into the clear space in front of the desk. Shishido was waiting there, clearly beside himself, but the older boy breathed a huge sigh at the sight of his partner.

"Fucking hell, Choutarou, cutting it close!" he muttered, turning to the tournament official. "See? He's here. With a whole five seconds to spare, even. So we're playing."

The official nodded and stamped their papers, handing them back to a very relieved Shishido. "Your game starts in two hours," the woman informed them, sparing a smile for the panting and disheveled Ohtori. "Change rooms are to the left, and you can warm up in any of the courts not marked as reserved for the matches. Good luck."

Catching his breath, Ohtori followed his partner towards the indicated change rooms. "What the hell happened?" Shishido asked him, scowling. "It's not like you to be late for anything, much less something this important."

"The alarm didn't go off," Ohtori said, swallowing his building anger. He didn't know for sure that his suspicion was correct. Maybe the alarm really had just failed to ring, or maybe Amano had accidentally set it for the wrong time. There were half a dozen innocuous explanations for what had happened - though few if any of them accounted for why Amano would have asked his father _yesterday_ to take them to the concert. He'd been there when Ohtori had sold his ticket, and he'd been listening to Ohtori get more and more excited about this game all week. There was no way he'd 'forgotten' that Ohtori wasn't going with him.

Now wasn't the time to think about it, however. He needed to focus on getting warmed up and into the right mindset for the game. This was going to be one of their hardest battles ever, and that was saying something. This whole tournament had been a succession of 'hardest battles ever'. He was amazed they'd made it as far as they had, even as he burned with a sense of pride in their accomplishment and the determination to make it all the way to the top.

"You picked a hell of a time to _finally_ have Murphy's Law catch up with you," Shishido muttered shaking his head and clapping Ohtori on the shoulder. "Then again, I guess it wouldn't be Murphy's Law if it didn't choose the absolute worst time to strike, right?"

"Yeah," Ohtori agreed, forcing a laugh. The sound was hollow, and Shishido gave him an odd look. "At least I made it in time," he hurried on, before Shishido could say anything. "Come on, let's get changed and go have a look at the court we'll be playing on, then warm up."

Somehow he managed to divert his partner's attention and keep it diverted throughout the warm-up. They stretched out and then rallied a bit, just to get their breathing and heart rate up. Then more stretching, helping each other by leaning against the other's back to push the stretch carefully further. At least at this point it had become reflex for them both to ignore the sexual tension that soared between them when they did this. Through it all Shishido kept up a stream of their usual pre-game chatter, laughing and joking the way he always did when they were together.

Ohtori's responses were half hearted at best, though he did what he could to get into the familiar routine. His anger at his boyfriend was still eating at him, and he desperately wished he'd had time to confront Amano before the game. He should have insisted Amano follow him inside or something. But what explanation could he possibly have given the other boy's father?

It was fraying his concentration, though, and that was completely unacceptable. He could tell Shishido was worried about him, but there was nothing he could do to reassure his partner. He'd just have to go out there, play his best, and confront Amano afterwards.

"You ready?" Shishido asked him as they did their last minute checks at the bench beside the court, waiting for the referee to declare the start of the game. Atobe hadn't been able to make it to this match so they were playing without a bench coach today. While Ohtori did appreciate their former captain's assistance, sometimes he thought it was better when it was just him and Shishido.

Tugging sharply at his shoelace to make sure it was tight and wouldn't snap under pressure, Ohtori nodded shortly. _Play now, think about your messed up love life later,_ he ordered himself. Taking a deep breath, he straightened and grabbed his racquet.

This time it was Shishido who offered the high five, a variation on their ritual. Ohtori slapped his hand and hung on, and his partner squeezed his hand tightly. "Let's get out there and kick some ass," the older boy said firmly, and Ohtori nodded.

They lost the spin and their opponents chose to receive first. Ohtori stood at the service line and bounced the ball, trying to focus on the rhythm and familiar sound to help him concentrate. Shishido was up near the net; they'd learned a couple of new formations that made it easier to deal with anyone who _could_ return Ohtori's serve. At this level of competition, the Scud Serve was no longer a guaranteed service ace.

When he was as centered as he felt he was going to get, he caught the ball and began the toss. "Ikkyuu... nyuu... kon!" he shouted, snapping his racquet up and forwards as he lunged up to meet the ball on its descent.

With a horrible sound that he'd hoped he would never hear again the ball smacked straight into the net, bowing it out so far he almost wondered if the ball was going to tear through. "Fault!" the ref shouted as Ohtori stared at the net.

What the hell? He hadn't hit a Scud Serve into the net since the night Shishido had forced him to keep serving over and over until he finally got it right. The feel of the correct motion was burned into his brain now, and more importantly into his muscle memory. How could he have missed?

"Don't mind, Choutarou," Shishido called from the net, glancing back over his shoulder at his partner. His dark eyes flashed, and Ohtori drew a breath before he nodded in return.

Taking the next ball from the match attendant who'd run out to offer it, Ohtori squeezed it, testing the resistance. Maybe the last one had gone dead or something. Usually they tested the balls being used in tournaments pretty thoroughly, but it was possible a dead one had snuck in.

This ball was fine, though. Tossing it up, he arched his back and braced himself. "Ikkyuu... nyuu... kon!"

This time he knew it was going low even before it hit the net. Panting slightly with exertion, he stood at the baseline and stared at the place the ball had hit. He was actually a bit amazed that this one _hadn't_ torn a hole right through.

"Double fault!" the ref called. "Love-fifteen!"

"Pull it together, Choutarou!" his partner admonished him as they switched sides for the next point. "You're bending your wrist too much. You know better, damn it."

"Yes," he agreed with his partner. Now the anger he'd been harbouring for Amano had found a new target. He _did_ know better, damn it. How many hundreds, even _thousands_ of times had he hit this serve since Shishido had helped him perfect it? Why was it falling apart now, of all times?

He bounced the new ball a couple of times, trying to calm himself. It was a futile effort, and if he kept waiting until he regained his balance he was just going to get in trouble for stalling the game. His eyes burning with fury and determination, he tossed the ball high into the air.

"Ikkyuu nyuu kon!" He slammed the racquet forwards, and for a second he thought this time he'd succeeded. He'd never had as much trouble getting the ball over when he was serving from this side.

It was just barely too low; the ball slammed into the cord at the top of the net, ricocheted into the air, and came back down on their side. "Fault!" the referee called again, and Ohtori snarled wordlessly in frustration. Shishido said nothing this time, but Ohtori was certain he could read the words in his hard-eyed gaze. 'What the fuck are you playing at?'

Ohtori's only answer was a silent snarl as he grabbed the next ball. What the _hell_ was wrong with him? Was his concentration really so shot that he couldn't even execute his trademark serve from the side he'd always done well on?

This time when he served, the familiar chant was more a shout of defiance. He made an extra effort not to bend his wrist too much and ended up overcompensating.

The ball stayed high, but it angled too far out to the side. Time seemed to slow like one of those bad movie special effects as Ohtori watched the ball's path in horror. It slammed into Shishido's upper right shoulder, just barely to one side of his spine. The sound of the impact and his partner's pained cry rang in his ears until he wanted to scream to drown it out.

The world snapped back into normal speed as Shishido dropped his racquet and collapsed, ending up hanging half off the net with his uninjured arm. Even from the baseline Ohtori could see the way his partner's face was twisted in pain. He'd seen that look before, _far_ too many times. He'd never thought he would see it again, had _sworn_ that he would never again be the one to put that look on Shishido's face.

"Shishido-san!" Ohtori's shout was laced with horror and emotional agony bad enough to match the physical pain his partner was suffering. Without a thought Ohtori dropped his own racquet and raced to the net.

He beat the tournament medics by a heartbeat, dropping to his knees and clutching at Shishido's uninjured shoulder to try to help support him. "Shishido-san! Oh gods, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... are you okay? Can you move your arm? Oh gods..."

"Not sure if that actually hurts more than it used to, or if I'd just managed to forget how bad it really was," Shishido ground out, somehow able to give Ohtori a wry look though the pain. "Thought you said you were never gonna do that again, Choutarou?"

He hissed and swore as one of the medics gently manipulated his arm, testing to see if anything was broken. "I'm fine, it's just a bruise," Shishido snapped at them irritably. "I ought to know, it's not the first time I've been hit by his serve. Stop fussing, damn it, I'm fine."

"My serve wasn't nearly as fast back then," Ohtori murmured, anguished. "And you weren't expecting this. Gods, Shishido-san..."

"Just help me to the bench so I can stretch this out," Shishido interrupted him before he could really get started. Ohtori nodded and supported him over to their bench. By the rules of the tournament they got five minutes for Shishido to try to recover from the injury before they had to either continue or forfeit. Ohtori couldn't imagine how Shishido could be planning to continue playing for a whole three sets; it was his racquet arm that Ohtori had struck.

"Choutarou," Shishido's voice was harsh, and he shook the younger boy by the shoulder with his good hand. "Look at me, damn it." Miserably Ohtori met his eyes, and his partner scowled at him. "I don't know what the hell is with you today. You can tell me all about it and I'll help you work it out, whatever it is... _after_ the match."

"I'm sorry," Ohtori mumbled once more, and Shishido shook him again.

"Don't be sorry, just pull it together. You don't bring outside problems onto the court. The only things you should be thinking about are you and me, our opponents, the ball, the net, and the court. That's _it_ , and you know it."

Nodding, Ohtori dropped his head in shame. He did know better. He was letting his anger at Amano distract him, and he was going to end up losing this game for them. At this rate he might as well have just gone to the damn concert.

Shishido made a noise of frustration and released his shoulder. Ohtori half expected a blow next, though Shishido had never lashed out at him before. Instead strong fingers grabbed his chin and wrenched his eyes back up.

" _Look_ at me," Shishido demanded, blue eyes blazing. "Don't you dare look away. Focus."

Staring into his eyes, Ohtori felt almost like he was burning up from the inside out under the fire of that gaze. They were only inches apart, and Shishido's gaze was unrelenting. He desperately wanted to look away, to shift his focus just enough to escape the full force of it, but any time his eyes started to dart away Shishido's fingers tightened briefly on his skin in warning.

Swallowing hard, Ohtori forced himself to just sit and let himself be scorched. Once it was clear that he wasn't going to look away he expected Shishido to say something else scathing, or at least to drop his hand. He did neither of those things, just sitting there staring silently back at Ohtori, a challenge in his eyes.

Slowly something almost akin to panic began to build in Ohtori's chest. He felt like Shishido could see straight down into his soul, as if everything he'd ever tried to hide from his partner was being laid out for the older boy to see. Worse, it almost seemed like he could see Shishido's soul in return, blazing out at him from behind those dark eyes.

He was trapped, and he couldn't have moved away now if he'd tried. Nothing existed except him and his partner. There was no court, no referee, no opponents, no audience. He was totally oblivious to the whispers and scandalized titters sweeping through the observers as they continued to just sit there on the bench, staring at each other.

Was _this_ what people meant when they talked about a 'soul deep connection'? He'd thought he and Shishido had been connected before, but compared to this it felt like they might as well have been trying to signal each other in Morse code. It was frightening, having someone see that far into you.

 _Finally_ something broke the stalemate. "Hey, you two!" the referee called, loud enough to break the near-trance Ohtori had fallen into. "Your five minutes are almost up, are you playing or forfeiting?"

When Ohtori would have glanced over at him, Shishido's hand tightened again and held him still. "We're playing," the older boy called back, not looking away from his partner. Lowering his voice, he murmured for Ohtori's ears only, "Better?"

"Better?" Ohtori echoed, feeling almost dazed. Taking stock of himself, he was startled to realize that at some point his angry breathing had calmed, and the fury at himself and his boyfriend had subsided. Not vanished, no... it was still there, and if he poked at it he was certain it would return in full force. But as long as he left it alone, as long as he clung to the sense that he and Shishido were the only things in the world that mattered, he was able to set it aside.

"Good," Shishido nodded sharply and finally released him, apparently reading his answer in his eyes. "If you start to lose yourself again, just focus on me, all right? You've been my anchor often enough, it's about time I started paying you back."

"Shishido-san..." Ohtori might have said more, if they hadn't been out of time. Then again, he might not have, because he couldn't seem to find any words. How had Shishido done that? Just how well _did_ he know Ohtori? What did it mean, this powerful sense of connection that still seemed to linger between them even now?

 _Worry about it later,_ he told himself as Shishido stood from the bench and offered him a hand up. _You've got a game to play._

He took the offered hand and let Shishido pull him up. The contact between them made his body tingle like it always did, but this time it seemed almost... irrelevant, somehow. They'd just shared a much deeper connection that nothing physical could ever hope to reproduce - though he had a feeling that if he allowed himself to even _contemplate_ the idea of having sex while staring into Shishido's eyes like that, he was never going to be able to settle for anything less ever again.

Taking a deep breath, he squeezed his partner's hand and shoved everything else aside. "Let's do it," he said firmly. Grabbing the racquet that somebody had apparently brought over to them while he hadn't been paying attention, he turned and strode back towards the baseline. This time, he knew, the Scud Serve was going to stay true... and so would he and Shishido.


	18. Chapter 18

They lost in the end, in no small part because of the restriction to Shishido's movement caused by the injury to his shoulder. Their opponents won both of the first two sets, but Ohtori and Shishido made them work hard for them at 7-5 and 6-4. Ohtori was just as glad they hadn't had to play the third set, because by the end of the second he could see the effort it was taking Shishido to move his arm.

Under other circumstances he might have been drowning in guilt, but as they left the change rooms Ohtori felt like he was walking on air. Loss or no loss, they'd accomplished one of their greater goals today; they'd been approached by a well-known tennis coach who wanted to take them on and train them.

In the end, there was only so much they could do to train on their own. Having a real coach, one specifically experienced in training doubles pairs, would make a huge difference to their success as a team.

"We still need a sponsor, though," Shishido reminded him as they walked through the crowds towards the building exit. "That guy's not going to come cheap, no matter how impressed with us he is. And we need to start looking at the bigger tournaments. It all costs money." Despite his words of caution the older boy had a grin plastered over his face that was just this side of ridiculous. "Maybe I can get Atobe to convince his father to sponsor us. The Atobe Group certainly has the money to spare."

"We'll get a sponsor," Ohtori assured him, still giddy. "If we're already doing this well, think how much better we'll be with coaching. We've placed well in two tournaments now; we might even be seeded in the next. If we don't win that one, I'll eat my racquet." He shook his head, hefting his bag a little higher on his shoulder.

"In the meantime, I'll pay for the coach," he added. When Shishido would have objected, Ohtori just ploughed right on over top of him, blithely ignoring his partner's expected protests. "My family can afford it, and yours can't," he said simply, shrugging. "Just smile and nod for now, Shishido-san. We need this coach, and you _know_ your family can't spare the money. If it bothers you that much, you can pay me back later. I know you're good for it."

"Damn straight I am," Shishido replied, momentarily disgruntled. Shaking his head, he sighed and clapped Ohtori on the shoulder. "You're right, and thank you. I let my pride get in the way of my tennis once; if nothing else, I try not to make the same mistakes twice."

"Good." Glad that he wasn't going to have to spend hours arguing about something they both knew had no other reasonable solution, Ohtori's smile widened. At that moment, he was pretty much on top of the world. He didn't think there was anything that could ruin his good mood.

They hit the exit, and even the weather seemed to be falling in line with his mood. It had been gray and sort of dreary when he'd arrived, but now the clouds were clearing up and the sun was shining through. "We should go get your arm checked out," he said solicitously.

"Will you stop about my arm already?" Shishido asked in exasperation, swatting at him. "It's not a big deal, all right? I'll put an icepack on it when I get home and I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Still." Ohtori couldn't help but worry. He knew what Shishido was refraining from saying; that he'd taken more than one Scud Serve in the past and lived through it, and that was true. That didn't make it any less painful for him to know he was once again responsible for hurting his partner that way.

Before he could continue to press his point, however, the last person he wanted to see at the moment stepped away from the wall of the building and into their path. "Choutarou. I want to talk to you," Amano said flatly, his pale grey eyes giving nothing of his thoughts away.

"Kazuya." Ohtori's voice was no more welcoming than his boyfriend's had been, and he felt Shishido stiffen beside him. Just that quickly his good mood slid away as he was reminded _why_ he had been angry enough to accidentally serve straight into his partner.

"I want to talk to you," Amano repeated, crossing his arms. "In private." He glared at Shishido as if he expected the older boy to object, and Ohtori could see the silent snarl in his partner's eyes.

"Shouldn't you be at the concert?" Ohtori asked before Shishido could snap something in return. His voice remained cool, and his words served as a reminder to his boyfriend that if anyone had the right to be upset at the moment, it wasn't Amano.

"I was hoping to catch you between settings and apologize to you," the pianist said, his eyes flashing briefly with anger before he retreated behind his icy demeanour again. From his tone, Ohtori somehow doubted the other boy was still planning to apologize.

"They're called 'sets'," he sighed, raking his free hand through his hair. "And we're not allowed to talk to... oh, never mind," he interrupted himself. Amano wasn't there for Ohtori to remind him _again_ about the rules and terms of tennis. "Fine, we can talk. We might as well do it now as later. Shishido-san, will you excuse me, please?"

"Yeah." Shishido looked reluctant, but Ohtori was grateful that he agreed without protest. "I'll go, uh, wait by the driveway. We've got a while before the next train in our direction gets here."

"Thank you," Ohtori said, and watched him head off for a moment before turning to his boyfriend. "Not here," he said when Amano seemed perfectly willing to start talking the moment Shishido was out of earshot. "It's too public. Come on."

He led the way back around the corner of the building Amano had been leaning on, heading for the small building that housed the machinery that kept the huge air dome over the courts until summer came. The air pumps and fans were relatively noisy, and nobody but maintenance people ever came back here, so they were safe enough to talk without a curious reporter overhearing them.

"What the hell was that all about?" Amano burst out the moment Ohtori turned towards him. "That was about the least platonic-looking thing I've ever seen anybody participate in while fully clothed and in public."

"What?" Caught off guard by the totally unexpected attack, Ohtori just stared at him. "Kazuya, what on earth are you talking about? You've seen me play tennis before."

"I'm not talking about the game, Choutarou," Amano snapped back. "I'm talking about the five minutes you two spent gazing adoringly into each other's eyes. Do you have any idea what people were whispering about the two of you?"

 _Oh, right. That._ As intent as he'd become on the match, Ohtori had honestly almost forgotten about how Shishido had forced him to focus. It probably had looked odd to anyone watching, he had to admit. And, well... it _had_ been a rather intimate moment, though not quite in the way Amano was trying to imply. A light flush suffused his cheeks.

"It's not..." he started to protest. Abruptly he cut himself off, shaking his head. "No, you know what? That's not relevant here. I'm not going to let you distract me from what happened this morning, Kazuya. What the hell was your father talking about? You _knew_ I'd sold my ticket."

"I got another one," Amano said, as if it were perfectly logical for him to have done so.

"Why?" Ohtori demanded. "For what possible reason could you have done that? You knew I had a game today, and I told you that it was likely to go too long for it to be worth it for me to try to get to the concert afterwards. That's why I sold my ticket in the first place! And I was right, it is late, and we only even played two sets. Why would you do that?"

"Because you're wasting your time here," Amano said, eyes narrowing as his face tightened in anger. "Damn it, we should have been at that concert today. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you were crazy to throw it away like that!"

"I was not 'wasting my time'. This was the _semifinals_ of a very important tournament!" Ohtori replied, his own voice freezing over as he started to become truly angry again. "If we'd dropped out so I could go to a _concert_ , there is no way anyone would ever have been willing to sponsor or coach us! They wouldn't take us seriously. There will be other concerts."

"There will be other tournaments," Amano countered, his voice chilling as well. "Look around you, Choutarou!" He swept his arm out in a gesture that encompassed the dome over the courts. "Tennis is your _hobby_. Music is your _life_. It's great that you enjoy sports and that you're good at them, and it's probably good for you to be so active. Fine. But you're letting it interfere with what's really important, and you're losing your focus! You're going to regret it in a couple of years when other people start pulling ahead of you because you haven't practiced enough."

"You..." Ohtori stared at him in disbelief. The suspicion had been there, but some part of him had still wanted to believe that the whole thing had been a mix-up. "You didn't set the alarm on purpose, didn't you? You _did_ know that if I missed registration we'd have to forfeit the match. And you were planning to console me by surprising me with the extra ticket you'd bought just in case."

Amano didn't need to confirm it; Ohtori could read it in the angry set of his eyes. Most other people wouldn't have been able to see past the chilled expression, but Ohtori was far too familiar with using coldness as a defence not to be able to see through it in someone else. Especially someone he knew this well.

"You deliberately exhausted me last night so I'd sleep in," he continued, certainty growing in him with every word. "And then you didn't set the alarm. Just what the _hell_ do you think gives you the right to dictate what is and is not important in my life?" Now it was his turn for his eyes to flash dangerously. He was a full head taller than the pianist, and he used it to his advantage now, looming over the smaller boy.

"For your information," he hissed out, beyond furious, "I haven't decided yet whether music or tennis is going to be my career path. I've been delaying the decision as long as possible. It's just as likely that it is going to be music that ends up as my hobby, not the other way around."

"What?" Amano looked shocked and dismayed. Under other circumstances it might have been funny to see the pianist so alarmed, but Ohtori wasn't laughing. "Choutarou, you can't _do_ that! You have a talent, a _gift_. You're one of the best violinists I've ever played with. You have the potential to make a name for yourself as a soloist, and that's not something many people will ever be able to do. You have a responsibility not to throw that gift away!"

"I have a gift for tennis too, Kazuya," Ohtori said, voice low and dangerous. "One of Japan's top doubles coaches approached Shishido-san and I today and offered to train us. With his help, and if we keep playing the way we have been, we're going to start getting invitations to the really serious matches. By the time we're done high school we could go pro, or maybe even to the Olympics. How is it any less my responsibility to make the most of that gift?"

"Oh, great, so now you're going to spend even more time training with him," Amano growled. "Am I even going to get to see you anymore?"

"Not if you keep this up," Ohtori said warningly. "Don't you bring Shishido-san into this, damn it. This is not about him, this is about you trying to railroad me into making the decisions _you_ think are best for me!"

"I'm not bringing him into this," Amano replied, tone scathing. "I don't need to. He never left. This has _always_ been about you and him. I've never been anything more than a substitute, have I?" When Ohtori just stared at him again, he continued bitterly, "Someone showed me a picture of him today, from before you were partners. Is that why you always ask me to wear my hair up? So you can pretend I'm him?"

Completely shocked at the accusation, Ohtori was left grasping for words for a long moment. "Excuse me?" he finally managed, the ice cracking again under the sheer force of his fury. "Kazuya, we're _Japanese_. You cannot possibly hold the fact that you and Shishido-san both had long, dark hair against me! Damn it, I ask you to wear your hair that way because I think it looks hot! I barely even knew Shishido-san when he had long hair, you do _not_ remind me of him."

"Oh, don't give me that," Amano retorted. "You were on the same tennis team for a year before he cut his hair."

"No, actually, we really weren't," Ohtori said, recovering some of the ice as his poise returned to him. "You don't understand how the Hyoutei tennis club works. I was a Regular, he was a sub-Regular. He was a singles player and I was in doubles. We didn't talk to each other, practice together, or even use the same clubhouse. And before I made the Regulars he was a sub-Regular and I was just a freshman, completely beneath his notice."

He snorted, remembering the few encounters he'd had with Shishido before he'd agreed to help the senior train to regain his spot on the team. "Frankly, what little I did know of him I didn't think much of. He was as spoiled and arrogant as Atobe-san, with none of Atobe-san's redeeming qualities. It wasn't until he was dropped that I saw there was more to him than the vain peacock, and shortly after that he cut his hair. When I picture him I have a hard time remembering what he used to look like; I have to look two or three times to find him in old team photos."

"Right, and I suppose the soul-gazing back in there was just something every doubles team does to help them focus," Amano said sarcastically. "Give me credit for a little intelligence, Choutarou. And you wonder why I don't trust you with him!"

There was absolutely nothing he could say that was going to get through to his boyfriend, Ohtori realized with a sort of weary resignation. Later it would hurt, and hurt badly, but right now he was just emotionally overloaded. In the end, nothing he had done had made a dent in Amano's distrust of him when it came to Shishido. And in all honesty, Ohtori couldn't even entirely blame him.

No, he couldn't blame him... but that didn't mean he was just going to sit back and accept it, either. "Kazuya, I can't go through this again. I thought I'd finally managed to convince you that I would never, _ever_ cheat on you. But if you can't even respect me enough to trust me after all this time, then there's no point to continuing to try." Looking deep into those angry, wounded silver eyes, Ohtori said the words he suspected had been coming for far too long. "It's over, Kazuya."

"Wh-what?" The pianist was startled, as if that was the last thing he'd expected Ohtori to say. "You... you can't mean that. Choutarou, you're upset. Fine, we'll talk about this later when we're both feeling more rational."

"No." Ohtori's voice was soft, but implacable. "I can't, Kazuya. You don't trust me, and I can't convince you, and we're tearing ourselves to pieces over it. It's hurting you, and it's killing me, and I just can't handle it any more. It's over."

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither quite sure what to say. Ohtori _knew_ that most of the blame for this lay squarely on his shoulders. He'd made a lot of mistakes over the last seven or eight months, some of which he would probably regret for the rest of his life. Somehow, he knew this wasn't one of them. As much as it was going to hurt when the anger wore off, it was the only way to keep them from destroying each other.

As realization sank in that Ohtori was utterly serious and would not be swayed, fury crept into Amano's expression. Ohtori braced himself, half expecting the smaller boy to swing at him. Instead Amano's attack was entirely verbal, but when he spoke Ohtori wasn't sure he wouldn't have preferred the punch. "So that's it? What'd it take for him to convince you to break up with me? Better yet, how long are you planning to wait before you run to his arms? A week? An hour? Or are you just going to turn around and drag him to the nearest secluded spot?"

Ohtori stiffened in renewed anger at the accusations, twice as hurtful for the grain of truth to them. He couldn't deny that, once free of his relationship with Amano, chances were extremely good he and Shishido would end up together in fairly short order. They'd been dancing around each other for almost a year now, and once there was nothing between them any more he doubted either of them would be resist the next time temptation presented itself.

 _The fact that I'm even thinking about it in terms of 'freedom' should tell me I'm doing the right thing,_ Ohtori thought painfully. "I can't deny that he's one of my reasons for doing this, but he's not the main one," he said stiffly. "The main reason is that I will _not_ put up with anyone trying to run my life for me. Not by physical things like not setting the alarm, and not by emotional things like trying to restrict my friendships with other people so that you're always front and center in my life!"

"Oh please." Amano's eyes glinted with pain and anger to match Ohtori's own. Ohtori knew the other boy was hurt and lashing out, but he couldn't help but react to his tone. Amano knew his weak spots far too well not to be effective when trying to hurt him. "Hell, at this point it wouldn't surprise me if there wasn't even any waiting involved. Is that why you keep putting me off? Have you been screwing him, and didn't want me to see any evidence of it?"

Given half a second longer, Ohtori would have hit the other boy for daring to even suggest such a thing. Damn it, maybe he'd made a lot of the mistakes in their relationship, but he had _not_ cheated! As tempted as he'd been, he'd never given in, and he couldn't believe Amano could think that of him even in the midst of this much anger.

He never got the chance to throw the punch, however. Before he could do more than take a step forward Amano had been slammed up against the wall of the machinery house, Shishido's hands clamped over his shoulders and pinning him in place. The older boy was beyond merely furious, his blue eyes almost black with rage and his face contorted into a snarl.

"Don't you _ever_ fucking talk about Choutarou like that again!" his partner hissed, pulling away and slamming Amano back into the wall again for emphasis. "If I ever again hear you say something that dirty about him again, I will tear your guts out and string my racquet with them, you hear me? You fucking take that back!"

Choking, Amano struggled against his hold as Ohtori looked on in disbelief. Where the hell had Shishido come from? How long had he been lurking around the corner, listening? Long enough, apparently. "Shishido-san..."

"Haven't we had this discussion before, Shishido?" Amano croaked out, clearly not cowed by the violence. "You're still acting like you're suffering from a guilty conscience. How long _did_ it take you to seduce him back to you? At least I know I fucked him first..."

"Shishido-san!" Ohtori barely managed to grab the fist Shishido had drawn back to smash into Amano's face. He held on with all his strength, knowing if he let go there was going to be bloodshed. "Shishido-san, stop it. He's just trying to hurt me! It's not worth it. Stop!"

"If you think I'm going to stand here and let someone shit-talk you like that, Choutarou, you seriously need to think again," Shishido growled. "Let go, damn it, I'm going to pound some manners into this little bastard!"

"No," Ohtori said firmly, tugging at the hand he held captive. "No, Shishido. Don't you dare. If you hit him I will never forgive you, do you hear me? I'll never play with you again!"

Disbelieving, Shishido stared at him, momentarily diverted from his anger at Amano. Ohtori looked back at him steadily, wordlessly promising that he wasn't bluffing. "You dropped the 'san'," Shishido finally observed somewhat nonsensically.

"Oh, for..." Exasperated, Ohtori hauled at him again, trying to get him to back off. "If I call you 'Ryou', will you let him go?"

"For that? Yeah," Shishido agreed, releasing Amano at last. He backed up a step at Ohtori's continued urging, but didn't let up on his angry glare at the pianist. "But if I _ever_ hear about you harassing Choutarou, I will be the one to make _your_ life a living hell. Got me?"

Dusting himself off, Amano traded him glare for glare. "Have fun," he sneered. "Enjoy it while it lasts. Given his track record so far, I'm sure it won't be long before he starts looking around for someone else again."

Ohtori was glad he hadn't yet released Shishido's hand, because otherwise Amano would have been going to the hospital. "Get the hell out of here," Ohtori snapped at Amano. "I'm only going to save you from a broken nose so many times. Next time I let him hit you."

For once choosing the wise course of action, Amano stalked off without saying another word. Ohtori hung on to Shishido until the pianist was out of sight around the corner before he released him with an exhausted sigh. His emotions were finally catching up to him, anger and sorrow and hurt crashing down on him all at once. He leaned back against the wall Shishido had pinned Amano to, not sure his legs would hold him up otherwise.

"Arrogant and spoiled as Atobe, huh?" Shishido asked after a moment, prompting a laugh that was half sob from Ohtori. "Choutarou? Fuck, are you okay?" The older boy was clearly concerned, eyeing him with worry replacing the anger in his eyes. "You're crying..."

"Am I?" Ohtori was surprised, but when he touched a shaking hand to his face, he discovered that his partner was right. There were tears on his cheeks, and more flowing down with every moment. Actually, that probably explained why it was so difficult to see.

Furious at himself now, angry that he would lose control in public like this, Ohtori sniffed and scrubbed at his face, trying to rub away the tears. "Gods," he choked out when they kept coming despite his best efforts. "Maybe I really did love him. It hurts..."

Not as much as it had hurt when Shishido had cut him out after his confession, but it was still a dull ache that seemed to take up all the space in his chest, pushing everything else aside until it threatened to swallow the beat of his heart. It still felt like it had been the right thing to do, but that didn't stop it from hurting.

"Hey," Shishido's voice was uncharacteristically soft, and he wiped a missed teardrop from the side of Ohtori's chin. "It's all right, you know. You guys were going out for, what, seven months? Of course it hurts. You must've cared about him to stay with him that long."

"I just..." To his horror Ohtori realized he was starting to _sob_ , his loss of control complete. Shishido tugged him down into an awkward embrace, and he leaned on his partner's shoulder and cried himself out.

"I tried so hard," he whispered when he thought he could be coherent again. "After everything he did for me, I just wanted to be worthy of his feelings for me. I thought I was over you, I really did. Especially after what you did after your birthday party. But..."

"But nothing," Shishido interrupted him, rubbing his back gently. "Choutarou, sometimes it just doesn't work out. You gave it your best shot, but it was the wrong time, the wrong circumstances. I know the way you are, you would have put everything you had into saving it. It just wasn't meant to be."

"Not everything," Ohtori confessed miserably. "No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about you in the end. You were right before, Shishido-san. I wasn't being fair to either of you, and now I've managed to hurt _everyone_ involved."

"Wait a minute," Shishido protested lightly, obviously trying to distract him. "I let him go because you promised to call me 'Ryou'! Why are we back to 'Shishido-san'?"

Despite himself, Ohtori gave a watery laugh. "I never said I would _keep_ calling you that," he said. "You should have stipulated that as part of the bargain."

When he forced himself to straighten, he saw that Shishido was giving him a wry smile. "I guess I'll just have to keep finding ways to get you to bribe me with it, until it becomes automatic. I like hearing you say my name."

Ohtori started to say something in reply, but his breath caught in his throat and all the words flew out of his head as Shishido reached up and cupped his cheek. There was a heated look in the older boy's eyes that hadn't been there a moment before, but Ohtori was suddenly excruciatingly aware of the way they were standing pressed together. What had been intended for comfort had turned into something else entirely.

"Choutarou," Shishido murmured, his expression intent. "Gods, I feel like I've waited forever for this..."

 _He's going to kiss me,_ Ohtori realized, feeling dazed as Shishido stretched up towards him. _He's really going to..._

Unbidden, Amano's hateful words from earlier rang in his ears. _'How long will it take before you run to his arms?'_

"No," Ohtori gasped, rearing up to his full height and putting himself out of reach unless Shishido went right up on tiptoe. "Gods, Shi... Ryou. We can't."

"What?" Shishido looked both frustrated and elated - presumably the latter was for the fact that Ohtori had called him by given name. It wasn't hard to guess what the frustration was for. "Why the hell not?"

"Because I won't prove him right, damn it," Ohtori replied, anguished. "I won't give him cause to be able to point and say 'I knew it'. And because he deserves better than that."

Blowing out a long breath, Shishido shook his head and took a step back. "I know one of the things I like about you is your sense of integrity, but right now I could wish you were just a bit less... integrated?"

Snorting with laughter, Ohtori gave him a rueful smile. "Please, Ryou. We've screwed up so many times with each other; I don't want to give myself something else to doubt or regret. It doesn't feel right to just turn away from him and straight to you. I feel like I'm vindicating every jealous moment he ever had."

"All right, all right," Shishido agreed with a grimace. "You can have as much time as you need, Choutarou. Hells, I've waited this long. And you're right, the last thing we need is more fuck-ups between the two of us."

"Thank you," Ohtori said softly, ducking his head to hide his eyes with his bangs. He bit his lip, trying not to start sniffling again. This had been a _far_ too emotional day for him, and he was starting to feel utterly exhausted by it all. He needed to go crawl into bed, pull the covers over his head, and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist until he got it all sorted out inside his own mind.

"We should go," he said, bending to pick up his bag. "We've already missed one train, I'm sure. We shouldn't miss the next."

"Choutarou."

When Ohtori turned to look back at his partner quizzically, he found his shirt caught in a tight fist as he was dragged down into a passionate kiss. While he was more than a little shocked, he also couldn't keep himself from responding. Moaning into the kiss, he dropped his bag again and wrapped his arms around Shishido, kissing back for everything he was worth.

In many ways it was really no different than kissing Amano had been, which surprised Ohtori a bit. And yet it was on another level entirely, his body aching almost instantly with the force of the pent-up passion behind it.

Shishido finally broke the kiss and stepped away, looking up at him. Ohtori just stared back at him, too dazed to think of anything to say. "Just so we know what we're waiting for," the older boy told him with a cheeky grin. His voice betrayed him, though, coming out husky and half an octave lower than usual. Ohtori shivered at the sound of it, and had to turn away so he wouldn't be tempted to grab his partner and try that again.

"It's worth it," he said, his own voice a bit rougher than normal. "It's definitely worth it."


	19. Chapter 19

It felt a little odd, walking onto the Hyoutei High grounds. It wasn't all that far from the middle school, but Ohtori had never been there before. He didn't actually _know_ where the tennis courts were, but it was a pretty safe bet that they'd be in the back of the building so that was the direction he headed in.

He got more than one double take from passing students on their way home after club activities. His height made him look old enough to be a high school student, he knew, but his uniform clearly marked him as a member of the affiliated junior high. He couldn't help but smile to himself at their startled looks.

The sound of balls against racquets soon told him he was going in the right direction, and he rounded a corner to see several well-maintained courts in an enclosure. Literally hundreds of students were practicing either playing matches or doing drills or just running laps. The familiar Hyoutei colours dominated, although the high school jerseys were designed differently. And, of course, the fan contingent was strongly represented, flocks of girls (and not a few boys) crowded around the fences and squealing among themselves.

Looking around, Ohtori could see the signs of recent construction. A building that looked suspiciously newer than everything else stood off to one side, and he laughed to see it. He didn't need three guesses to figure out what it was; Atobe wasn't one to allow himself to languish in 'lesser' facilities when he could simply spend a great deal of money to improve his surroundings.

And really, in the end it benefited the whole team. They'd certainly made good use of the new clubhouse Atobe and Sakaki had built at the junior high, and presumably it was still being made good use of even though Atobe was no longer there.

Making his way to the fringes of the crowd of observers, Ohtori glanced around the courts for anyone familiar. He saw several boys he recognized as having been seniors in the club when he was on the team, but none of the other former Regulars.

He got even more odd glances from this crowd, but he just smiled sweetly at anyone who looked at him strangely. Finally he spotted a familiar blue cap, and wormed his way through the crowd.

Shishido spotted him coming before he was close enough to call out without raising his voice too much. "Choutarou!" he exclaimed, giving Ohtori a baffled grin. "What the hell are you doing here? We don't even have a session with the coach tonight, do we?" They had training sessions with their new coach on weekends and two weeknights, usually later in the evening so it wouldn't conflict with the tennis club for Shishido. While they sometimes would get together just to hang out on the nights they weren't training, they usually made plans for it ahead of time.

"No, but I've been wanting to come see the high school team and I figured now was as good a day as any." Ohtori smiled back at him and leaned in against the fence, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Besides... in all honesty, I just _had_ to see Atobe-san chasing balls after you told me about it last weekend."

Laughing, Shishido jerked his head in the direction of one of the other courts. "Over there. He tends to just stand around 'directing' if he can get away with it, but you're in luck. Some of the seniors made him actually do his fair share today."

Glancing over, Ohtori had to cough to hide an extremely amused laugh as he caught sight of their former captain. Like all the other freshmen Atobe was dressed in a gym uniform rather than the club jersey they hadn't yet 'earned', and he looked a bit disgruntled as he gathered up balls from the side of the court to return to the upperclassmen.

There really was something just... refreshing about seeing arguably one of the most arrogant players ever to grace Hyoutei Gakuen's courts being forced to perform the menial chores expected of a freshman. Just as in the junior high club, freshmen weren't allowed to actually play in the beginning of the year. "I have to admit I'm a little surprised he didn't bribe his way into being allowed to try out for the team," Ohtori said, chuckling softly.

"What makes you think he didn't try?" Shishido countered with a grin, gesturing at the new clubhouse. "This coach isn't as easily swayed as Sakaki was. He said Atobe could stand to wait at least one term before playing, just like the rest of us."

"I bet that didn't go over well," Ohtori commented, and Shishido laughed.

"You don't know the half of it. I'm just glad the term is almost over. If we had to deal with him stalking around growling at everyone much longer, somebody was going to end up in deep shit. He's not real good at being subservient to his senpai, if you know what I mean."

"No, I wouldn't imagine he would be," Ohtori agreed, almost strangling on his laughter. "For once I'm glad I'm _not_ in your year. I bet he's difficult to deal with right now."

"Hey, Shishido-kun!" someone in a jersey shouted before his partner could answer him. "Quit slacking off and get back to work, we need more balls over here."

His back still to the older boy, Shishido rolled his eyes and Ohtori stifled another giggle. "Yes, senpai," Shishido called back, not sounding terribly pleased by the order. "Look, practice gets out pretty soon, why don't you just stick around?" he said quickly to Ohtori. "You're here anyway. I'm sure the others wouldn't mind seeing you either."

"I was planning on it," Ohtori assured him. "Go on, before you get in trouble."

Shishido turned and jogged off to help the senior who had called him, and Ohtori found a spot on the crowded bleachers. Looking out over the courts, he picked out the rest of his former teammates. There was Mukahi's flash of brightly dyed hair, over to the left; the small freshman was trotting around distributing water bottles. Not far from him Oshitari was with another group of first-years doing racquet drills. And... he looked again, searching for the familiar mop of curls. Yes, there was Jirou, sound asleep on a bench. Nobody seemed to be trying to wake him to perform his duties; apparently they'd already learned the futility of trying in the months since the new school year had started.

So strange, to see them all in gym clothes instead of a uniform. Stranger still to see them doing first-year tasks rather than training with the Regulars. They had all been sub-Regulars at the very least when Ohtori had first joined the club in junior high as a freshman himself, so he had never before seen any of them in this position.

As Shishido had said it wasn't too long before the captain declared the practice over, and the juniors and seniors began to stream towards the clubhouse. The freshmen of course had to remain until the courts were clean and the nets tended to, but the main press of people was gone. Most of the observers left as well once the team members had vanished into the new Regulars clubhouse, leaving Ohtori more or less alone on the bleachers.

"Hey, Ohtori!" Mukahi called, spotting him. "Come to make fun of us, huh? Your time will come! You're gonna have to go through this next year too, same as the rest of us. Yuushi, you owe me twenty bucks. I told you he'd show up sooner or later."

"I don't recall ever disagreeing with you Gakuto, much less betting on it," the tensai said in amusement. "Frankly I'm surprised it took him this long."

"You're assuming that I'm planning to join the tennis club, Mukahi-san," Ohtori replied, standing and moving back to the fence so they could talk more easily. When the acrobatics specialist boggled at him, he couldn't help but laugh. "This coach isn't also the music teacher," he reminded the older boy. "I doubt I'll be lucky enough that the orchestra and tennis practices wouldn't overlap. And besides, with all the extra training I'm doing with Ryou, I don't think I'm going to have time for two clubs and my homework besides."

"Aw, but then we won't get to play with you!" Jirou protested around a huge yawn, wandering up to them and rubbing sleepily at his eyes. His hair and the top of his shirt were wet - apparently someone had woken him by emptying one of the water bottles over his head. "And who's Shishido going to play with?"

"Shishido isn't going to play with anyone," the boy in question growled as he dumped his full ball basket next to the others and joined them. "I'm playing singles again. No way in hell I'm messing up our combination by trying to play with someone else. Not when we're doing this well."

"Yes, I'd heard the two of you had been getting good results in the independent tournaments." Oshitari commented. "Congratulations, by the way. If you make it to the finals in the next one, which I'm quite certain you will, we should all go to cheer you on."

"Should we organize an orchestrated chant like Atobe had?" Ohtori asked, grinning. "Instead of 'Hyoutei' and 'Atobe', we could just change it to 'Shishido' and 'Ohtori'." Their former captain's overdramatic streak was the butt of frequent jokes among the rest of them. It felt good to laugh and joke with them all again; he hadn't seen most of them since his birthday back in February.

"I'm sure you can come up with something better than that," Atobe drawled loftily as he sauntered up to complete the group. "Copy-catting is terribly gauche. Hyoutei has standards to maintain, even if you two aren't officially affiliated with the rest of us. I'm sure I could..."

"We are _not_ coming up with any stupid chants, so get the idea right out of your head," Shishido interrupted him. "You guys are welcome to come watch, but if you start anything like that I _will_ convince Choutarou to 'miss' with one of his serves in your direction."

They all laughed, Ohtori most of all. He'd _missed_ this, and he'd been too occupied with keeping Shishido and Amano apart at his birthday party to enjoy it then. It made him regret the decision he'd more or less already made not to join the tennis club in high school, but he still felt it was the right thing to do. He didn't want to give up on music yet, and there just weren't enough hours in the day for him to do everything.

"Let's go for dinner!" Mukahi exclaimed. "We're only missing Hiyoshi and Kabaji, and neither of them ever said much anyway. It'll be like old times."

"No fancy restaurants," Shishido said hastily as Atobe opened his mouth. "Just burgers or something. You'll survive," he added unsympathetically to his disgruntled friend as Atobe arched an eyebrow at him. "And you're also outvoted. Just give in gracefully."

"I suppose I shall just have to resign myself to allowing your uncivilized ways to influence me," Atobe sighed dramatically, but Ohtori saw a glint of amusement in the older boy's eyes. "In point of fact, Shishido, the only thing I was planning to say was that it would be my treat, but since you cut me off..."

Shishido swung at him, and Atobe easily dodged the punch with a laugh. That set them all off laughing, and the next thing Ohtori knew he'd been swept up with the group of them and dragged off towards the change room. Mukahi and Jirou pointed out everything of interest to him, teasing him that they would make him change his mind about joining the team one way or another. Ohtori just went along with it, thoroughly enjoying himself despite the odd looks they got from some of the older non-Regulars who had no idea who he was and why he was in their clubhouse.

Nobody said anything, however, and in fairly short order everyone had showered and changed and was ready to go. As they walked out of the school grounds Ohtori automatically fell into place beside Shishido, walking close enough to his partner that their shoulders and hands just barely brushed together every so often.

It was, he reflected ruefully as he listened to the others talk and occasionally inserted a few words of his own, a fairly good metaphor for his entire relationship with Shishido at the moment. Shishido was still respecting his request that they not give Amano any reason to feel vindicated or further hurt, but they couldn't quite seem to force themselves to stay entirely aloof. They hadn't kissed again after that one time, but they both took just about any opportunity presented to be near or touching the other.

Even so, despite all the frustration they were both experiencing, Ohtori found it hard not to enjoy just being with Shishido. Especially with the others present to help distract both of them and diffuse some of the tension between them.

"Goodness," Oshitari drawled in his thick accent when the staff of the fast food restaurant gave them horrified looks as they walked in the doors. "You'd think we were a horde of ravening beasts about to descend on them."

"Yeah well, my mom always claims that teenage males _are_ ravening beasts, so I think they've got good reason," Shishido shot back. "She oughta know, she's raised two of us."

"And we're _athletic_ teenagers too," Jirou pointed out with a sleepy snicker. "Which they can tell by the tennis bags. That makes it about ten times worse. And you and Ohtori-kun are tall, so you probably eat even more than the rest of us."

"Everyone but Mukahi is tall compared to you, Jirou," Shishido replied, ruffling the smaller boy's hair. "And you're the oldest of us... you really need to hit that teenage growth spurt sometime soon."

Batting Shishido's hand away, Jirou stuck his tongue out at his friend. "Everyone in my family is short, you know that. I'm probably not going to get much bigger. That doesn't mean I'm not just as hungry as the rest of you!"

"I don't see why, you didn't do anything all practice but sleep on the bench," Mukahi retorted.

"I did so!" Jirou protested indignantly. The righteous expression slipped into an impish grin as he added, "I slept on the bleachers for a while. The fangirls are always happy to play pillow. But the coach said I had to at least be _on_ the courts or he wouldn't consider me to have been at practice."

"You're just lucky I was able to convince him to watch you play a match against me before he decided to throw you out of the club for not participating," Atobe said dryly. "And that he believed the rest of us when he asked around and everyone told him you'd always slept through practice."

"Not that Jirou wouldn't have just kept showing up and sleeping at our practices anyway," Shishido countered with a laugh. "He probably wouldn't even have noticed he wasn't supposed to be there."

"Yeah, but I'd notice that I never got to play," Jirou mock-pouted. "Anyway, if he'd thrown me out I'd have had to find some other club, since the school rules say you have to be in one. Maybe I could have joined Ohtori-kun in the orchestra." He grinned at the younger boy.

"I think you'd have more trouble sleeping through a rehearsal than you do sleeping through practice, Jirou-san," Ohtori replied with a grin. "It's much louder."

"He can sleep with rock music pounding in his headphones, I think he'd be able to sleep through one of your rehearsals," Shishido said, rolling his eyes. They'd reached the order counter now, and Mukahi and Oshitari were already placing their orders.

"I can sleep through _anything_ ," Jirou admitted with a grin, not sounding in the least repentant or regretful. "Mom always says it's a good thing I like tennis enough to stay awake for it sometimes and that I have a good metabolism, or I'd be fat from never getting any exercise."

Since Jirou's wiry frame didn't have so much as an ounce of fat to spare, Ohtori had a hard time picturing that. He and Shishido placed their orders, and then it was Atobe and Jirou's turn. Despite what he'd jokingly said to Shishido earlier Atobe paid for everything, as he usually did when the group of them went out. Even the ever-proud Shishido, who hated anything that smacked of charity in any way, had learned a long time ago not to bother protesting. For one thing, it really was like taking a drop out of the ocean as far as Atobe's wealth was concerned.

Once they all had their trays piled high with food, they moved towards one of the booths in a back corner where their chatter wouldn't disturb as many people. In the past when they'd had Hiyoshi and Kabaji with them they'd usually opted for two tables, but with only six of them apparently someone had thought it would be a good idea for them all to squish into one booth.

Of course, cramming six athletic boys and all their food into one booth was a problem in logistics at best and a disaster waiting to happen at worst. Oshitari and Mukahi immediately claimed one side of the table, but when Ohtori moved to sit next to Mukahi Jirou wormed his way in instead, declaring (rightly) that there was no way the two biggest members of the group could sit on the same side.

Unfortunately, that somewhat foiled Ohtori's plan to _not_ sit next to Shishido, because he doubted he'd be able to get Atobe to sit between them without actually asking, which would draw far more attention than he wanted. It wasn't that Ohtori didn't want to sit next to his partner; it was that he wanted to sit next to him too _much_. In the booth meant for four people, they'd be pressed up together like, well... like lovers. There was such a thing as tempting fate. Not to mention that he wasn't sure he wouldn't be too distracted to pay attention to the conversation.

With a fatalistic shrug and a wry grin in his direction Shishido slid into the other side of the booth. Atobe waited for Ohtori to follow, clearly intending to sit across from Jirou. Sighing softly, Ohtori gave in to the inevitable and moved to sit next to his partner, pressing as close as possible without actually climbing into the older boy's lap in order to give Atobe enough room to perch on the end of the bench.

It was just as bad as he'd thought it would be. While the others joked and laughed, Ohtori applied himself to his food as if he was starving so he wouldn't have to participate much. The others had seen him eat that way often enough before not to question it, even though he wasn't actually _that_ hungry at the moment since he'd only been watching the strenuous practice.

He was hyper-aware of Shishido's body against his; strong muscled thigh pressed to his leg, shoulders together, their arms brushing with every movement. Ohtori was certain there was a flush on his cheeks to match the warmth growing low in his body at the contact. Despite the fact that Shishido was easily holding up his end of the banter Ohtori could tell his partner wasn't entirely unaffected, by the way his breath hitched ever so slightly any time one of them shifted. He found he kept getting distracted by imagining what would happen if Shishido dropped his left hand to rest on Ohtori's leg beneath the table, or if Ohtori rubbed his foot against his partner's calf.

Either nobody had noticed the odd tension between their former D1 pair, or they were staying mercifully silent on the subject. Ohtori suspected the former, since if there was one thing Mukahi was not known for it was being merciful. Especially where opportunities to tease Shishido in any way were concerned.

Although, the disgruntled looks Mukahi kept shooting Jirou every so often for no apparent reason made Ohtori wonder if the singles player might not be kicking him to keep him quiet. Surely not. Especially since now and again the irritated look was directed at _Atobe_ , if Jirou happened to be distracted at the time.

Somehow he made it through the meal without completely embarrassing himself, and as he adjusted to the situation he even began to be able to enjoy and participate in the conversation as well. He never lost that razor's edge of awareness of his partner, though. As hard as it had been to resist Shishido when he'd still been going out with Amano, it was ten times as difficult now that the only thing standing between them was his sense of fairness towards his ex-boyfriend.

The restaurant wasn't all that busy, so they kept talking for hours, every so often sending someone back up for more drinks and fries. By the time it was dark outside Jirou was leaning half asleep against Mukahi, and the rest of them were starting to show signs of exhaustion as well.

"We should all get home," Atobe finally declared, standing and sweeping up his refuse onto his tray. Mukahi jostled Jirou irritably, trying to wake him as Oshitari chuckled at both of them. Ohtori took the opportunity to slide away from Shishido a bit before gathering his own garbage. The debris left behind by the six of them was truly stunning, he thought with some amusement as he surveyed what was left of their meals.

"Shishido, don't forget we've got Saturday practice tomorrow," Oshitari said as Mukahi finally got Jirou awake enough to get him out of the booth so the other two could leave as well. "The coach has been understanding about you missing it to attend matches, but..."

"Yeah, I know," Shishido agreed as he followed Ohtori out of the booth. "We're not meeting with our trainer until later in the afternoon. I'll be there, don't worry."

"You should come watch again sometime, Ohtori," Mukahi said, grinning at them both. "This was fun. And we still need to convince you to change your mind about not joining the club next year."

"I'll think about it," Ohtori promised, amused and a little touched. Even if it had been couched mostly in terms of 'You can't leave us alone to suffer from the Drama Queen moping around without you', the attempts to coax him into reconsidering were heartfelt enough. He really would be missed, and it was nice to know.

"Hey, Ohtori-kun, you take the same train as me from this direction, don't you?" Jirou asked around a massive yawn. "Walk me home so I don't fall asleep on the train, please? I don't want to end up halfway to Osaka again."

Since the train they both took didn't go quite _that_ far that was a bit of an exaggeration, but Ohtori laughed anyway. "Sure, Jirou-san, I can do that," he agreed. It would only be a couple of extra stops for him to make sure the sleepy older boy got off at the right station, and he didn't have anything pressing to do tonight.

He did cast a curious look at Atobe, though. Usually Jirou went home with Atobe and then the wealthy boy had one of his drivers take Jirou home, to prevent exactly the situation Jirou had just described. Atobe merely shrugged at him, however.

They all parted ways at the train station with much waving and reminders to be there bright and early the next morning. Shishido shot Ohtori a heated look as he left with Atobe that made Ohtori shiver, feeling his gut clench. The seething heat and impatience in his partner's eyes was enough to make him go weak in the knees, as it always did. He knew Shishido was frustrated with the restrictions he'd placed on them, and so was he, but it still didn't feel right to just turn straight from Amano and run right to Shishido.

He shepherded Jirou towards the platform their train would leave from, the older boy leaning against him a bit for support. "Jirou-san, how _did_ you ever get as good at tennis as you are if you're always asleep?" Ohtori asked a question that had nagged at him for years, amused.

"Hmm?" Jirou yawned again and blinked up at him, then grinned. "I do practice. All the time, usually with Atobe. He's the one who made me learn tennis in the first place, he said it was boring only playing against a wall. And of course there's no way we'd have been able to leave Shishido out, even if we'd wanted to. So we all took lessons with his private coach when we were kids."

"Is that how you both started playing!" Ohtori exclaimed. He'd honestly never thought to ask Shishido what had made his partner take up the sport, but this explained a lot. "And you still practice with Atobe-san now?"

"Sure, just about any time I'm over there," Jirou agreed with a sleepy grin. "It's just that it's hardly ever interesting enough at the club practices to keep me awake. It's different when I'm playing with Atobe."

"I would imagine so," Ohtori laughed. Their train pulled up with a screech of brakes, and they crowded in with everyone else on the platform.

Even this late at night it was still packed, though there was room to breathe at least. Ohtori helped Jirou wedge himself into a corner, then stood between the smaller boy and the rest of the crowd like a protective shield. His height and relative bulk made it easier for Ohtori to withstand the press of people, and Jirou laughed up at him appreciatively.

"I should always ask you to come home with me!" the smaller boy said, leaning against the wall with his eyes drooping. "You're much better at that than Atobe and Shishido are. But don't tell Atobe I said you were better than him at something."

"I was just going to ask _you_ not to repeat that to him," Ohtori replied wryly, and Jirou laughed again.

They talked about inconsequential things for most of the trip, mostly in an effort to keep Jirou awake. Ohtori's station came and went fairly quickly; he didn't like all that far from the school. Three stops later it was Jirou's station, and Ohtori pushed through the crowd to clear him a path to the door.

"Hey, walk me home?" Jirou asked as they reached the exit to the car. "I wanted to talk to you, but it was too crowded and noisy in here. It's not that far from my place to yours, right?"

"Sure," Ohtori agreed again, a little surprised. What could Jirou have to talk to him about? Well, that explained why he'd asked Ohtori to take him home instead of just going with Atobe, at least.

They made their way out of the station and into the brisk night air. Summer was well on its way, but the nights were still just a little cool. Ohtori wasn't exactly cold in the short-sleeved summer Hyoutei uniform, but he wasn't warm either. Jirou on the other hand seemed somewhat invigorated by the fresh air, his eyes opening again as he stopped yawning with every other breath. It wouldn't last, Ohtori knew from experience, but at least it meant he wasn't in any danger of having to carry the older boy home.

"So what did you want to talk about?" he asked as they walked down the quiet street. There were still lights on in most of the houses, but few people were outside at this time of day.

"Shishido told us you were worried about hurting Amano by getting together with him so quickly," Jirou said with his usual artless lack of tact. Ohtori blushed. It was one thing to know that Atobe and Jirou had a general idea of what was going on. It was another thing entirely to find out that Shishido had been telling them specifics.

"It's just that we spent so much of our relationship fighting about his jealousy towards Ryou," Ohtori explained awkwardly. "It seems like I'm proving him right. It makes me feel like I really _was_ betraying him that whole time, even though Ryou and I never did anything."

"Well, in all honesty, you probably could have handled it better," Jirou admitted guilelessly, making Ohtori wince. "I kept wondering why you didn't break up with him once Shishido got his head out of his ass and you forgave him. Not that there's anything wrong with just being attracted to someone while you're in a relationship with someone else, but you were pretty obviously more strongly attached to Shishido than Amano-kun."

"But it would have been totally heartless of me to break up with Kazuya just so I could go out with Ryou," Ohtori protested. "That _really_ would have vindicated his jealousy! I don't want to be the kind of person who could do that, Jirou-san."

"Was it any less heartless to put all three of you through months of more misery because you weren't willing to cause a little more pain early on?" Jirou wanted to know, and Ohtori winced again.

"There are times when I could wish you were a little less blunt, Jirou-san," he muttered. He couldn't deny the older boy's words, however. Looking back on it, it did seem clear that the best thing he could have done was break up with Kazuya when it became clear that his feelings for Shishido weren't as dead as he'd thought. "But I did care about Kazuya," he whispered, more to himself than to Jirou. "And he'd done so much for me. How could I not have tried everything I could think of to save the relationship before I gave up on it?"

"That's true, it isn't a good thing to give up on someone every time something better seems to come along," Jirou agreed. "It was a little different though, considering everything you and Shishido had gone through up to that point. But what's past is past, you can't do anything about it now. I suppose it probably was the only thing you could have done and lived with yourself afterwards." He cocked his head curiously at the taller boy. "I don't get it, though. Now you _have_ broken up with him, for good reasons from what Shishido said. So what's stopping you now?"

"I told you," Ohtori said miserably. "Running straight to Ryou would make everything he said about me seem justified." _'How long will it take before you run into his arms?'_ He shuddered. "I can't do that."

"Why not?" Jirou wanted to know. When Ohtori only stared at him blankly, Jirou shrugged. "Who are you trying to make happy, Ohtori-kun?"

"I don't..." Ohtori blinked at him, baffled. "I don't understand, Jirou-san. What do you mean?"

"I mean, who are you trying to make happy?" Jirou insisted. "Right now Shishido is miserable because it's killing him to have you so close but not be able to have you. You're miserable because you feel bad about breaking up with Amano-kun, and because you want Shishido just as bad but you feel guilty about it. And Amano-kun is miserable because you broke up with him, and is _still_ probably thinking that you left him for Shishido even though you two haven't done anything yet."

As Ohtori stared at him, Jirou gave him a bemused look. "So who are you making happy? Nobody. If you go be with Shishido then _he'll_ be ecstatic, and _you'll_ be happy because you _finally_ get to be with him, even if you do still feel a little guilty about Amano. And Amano will feel vindicated, which may or may not make him a little happier or a little more upset, but he'll get over it eventually. Just like he'd have to get over it eventually even if you waited years to be with Shishido."

Stunned, Ohtori tried to absorb that. If he really thought about it, he supposed he'd been trying to make _himself_ happy, or at least a bit less guilty. But Jirou was right that Amano probably believed he was with Shishido now whether or not it was true.

And really, even if they weren't physically doing anything, it _was_ true, wasn't it? However Ohtori tried to deny it or put it off, he and Shishido both knew it was only a matter of time. If they were already together in their hearts, did it matter if what they did with their bodies didn't reflect that?

"Anyway, how long is 'long enough'?" Jirou asked, continuing softly. Ohtori realized he'd stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, and the older boy had turned to face him. "How long do you have to wait before it's okay for you to be with Shishido?"

"I don't know," Ohtori replied, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I guess there isn't a good answer to that. Gods, what have I been doing?"

"You've been trying to make the best of a bad situation," Jirou said sympathetically. "It's just that you're going about it all wrong." He grinned. "Sometimes it's better in the end to be a little selfish, Ohtori-kun. Making yourself and Shishido unhappy doesn't serve any real purpose."

"You're right," Ohtori was forced to acknowledge. He felt like an idiot. Swallowing, he managed a wry smile at Jirou. "You know, for someone who spends most of his time asleep..."

"I know a lot about human nature?" Jirou's grin turned to the familiar impish look his teammates knew so well. "Comes from having Atobe and Shishido as best friends. Trying to keep _that_ friendship intact ought to let me test out of any number of psychology courses in university." Ohtori couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Now go home," Jirou instructed him. "We're almost at my house, I can get home from here without any trouble. I'd say you should call Shishido, except knowing him he'd charge straight over to your place. Maybe you should wait until after your practice tomorrow."

"Assuming I can even concentrate on tennis when I've got something like _that_ to say to him," Ohtori said, shaking his head. "But I won't tell him over the phone, no. That would be... rather unsatisfying for both of us, I think."

Slowly a smile was spreading over his face, the first true, unalleviated smile he'd worn for far too long. He still felt guilty for what he'd done to Amano, but Jirou was right that he wasn't making anybody happy this way.


	20. Chapter 20

In the light of day the next morning Jirou's words made no less sense than they had the night before. Maybe it was just that he was being given permission to do something he badly wanted to do anyway, but Ohtori felt the effect of what Jirou had said down to his very soul. He didn't need to make Amano happy, which was just as well because he _couldn't_ at this point. Even if he dropped Shishido entirely and went back to beg forgiveness from his ex-boyfriend, what had happened would always hang between them. And Amano would never be truly happy because _Ohtori_ would never be truly happy. Not without Shishido.

It was time and past time to find out exactly what he and Shishido had been denying themselves. Ohtori was all but vibrating as he ran to the indoor courts where their coach met them for training. He was early, and he could only pray Shishido would be as well, because he wanted to talk to his partner _before_ the practice. Otherwise he was going to be tripping over himself with anxiety and anticipation, and that wasn't likely to impress their coach.

He could have just called Shishido's cell and asked his partner to come early to 'warm up' or something, of course, but he was afraid that the moment he heard the older boy's voice he would just blurt out everything. Once he'd made the decision to stop holding back, everything had just seemed to fall into place in his head and his heart and he was dying to tell Shishido.

Thankfully when he stopped to sign in at the desk the attendant gave him two pieces of good news; his partner _was_ here early, and their coach had called to say he was going to be at least fifteen minutes late.

Heart pounding from far more than just the exertion of the run, he made his way slowly down the hall to the change rooms. Slowly only because there were other people around, and he didn't need to cause any accidents or injuries.

"Shishido-san?" He was nervous as well as excited, and the more formal address slipped out before he realized what he was saying. What if Shishido had decided he was tired of waiting, or that Ohtori wasn't worth it after all? Unlikely that he'd have come to such a decision over night, true, but still a possibility. Or worse, what if once they _had_ spent some time together, he realized that Ohtori didn't live up to his expectations?

Before he could work himself into a true panic Shishido's voice answered from behind one of the rows of public lockers. "Choutarou? You mad at me or something? You haven't called me that in a while."

Forcing himself to take a deep breath and calm down a little, Ohtori walked along the narrow aisle between benches and lockers. As far as he could tell he and Shishido were the only ones in the room at the moment, though there were signs that several of the lockers were in use.

When he found the row Shishido was using, he stopped short at the end of the aisle and just stared, suddenly breathless. The older boy had been growing his hair out, and today for the first time since he'd cut it he was finally able to pull it back into a short ponytail again. It was still nowhere near as long as it had once been, and more of it fell out of the tail to hang around his face than was up, but it was a start.

For the first time he really saw the resemblance between Shishido and Amano, and he had to admit that his ex-boyfriend had had some cause for concern on the subject.

It was only a superficial resemblance, though, and even though the short little tail looked just the slightest bit silly, Ohtori privately thought that Shishido looked far hotter with his hair up than Amano ever had.

Then again, he might be a bit biased. And the fact that the older boy was wearing nothing but his shorts and was bent over rummaging in his bag for his shirt probably didn't hurt matters either. My, oh my, Shishido had a fine torso. His back was sleekly muscled, the bulges shifting smoothly under the skin with each movement of his arms. Shishido had started really filling out as well, his shoulders broadening and putting on some bulk in his upper chest.

"Choutarou?" the older boy called curiously. "You there? I thought..."

Finally lifting his head, Shishido caught sight of Ohtori, standing at the end of the locker row and gaping like a mute idiot. The older boy blinked at him, then slowly smirked and straightened. "Well?" he asked, spreading his hands slightly and arching an eyebrow in a way that suggested he knew _exactly_ what was going through Ohtori's head. "See something you like, Choutarou?"

Ohtori had spent half the night planning exactly what he was going to say: how he was going to explain Jirou's words to him, and how he would apologize to Shishido for being such an idiot and holding them both back. He'd meticulously thought out each of Shishido's possible reactions and scripted how he would handle them all, not wanting to end up sounding like an utter moron.

Standing there looking at Shishido, with his hair framing his face and no shirt, a sexy look of smug invitation on his face, Ohtori's carefully planned speeches all flew straight out of his head. The longer he stood there speechless the wider Shishido's smirk got, and finally Ohtori shook his head. He couldn't say anything; fine, he'd just have to be non-verbal about it.

His tennis bag hit the floor with a solid 'thunk' as he was already moving towards his partner. Shishido's smirk turned to a surprised look. "Choutarou? What..."

He never got a chance to finish the question. Ohtori caught him by the shoulders and leaned in for a long, hungry kiss. After a moment of shocked stiffness Shishido melted against him, putting his hands on Ohtori's waist and trying to pull him closer. The older boy made another muffled sound of surprise when Ohtori allowed himself to be tugged forward, and he smiled against Shishido's mouth as he kept moving. It only took a few steps before he had the shorter boy pressed up against the lockers, caught between Ohtori's body and the solid metal with nowhere to go.

Not that Shishido was trying to get away, far from it. His hands clenched at Ohtori's waist as his mouth opened and his tongue probed for entrance. Ohtori granted it willingly, and his breath caught in his throat as they duelled back and forth for a long moment.

It was hot, and not only because they'd waited so long for this. Long practice as a doubles pair had taught them to anticipate each other, to be able to read subtle cues and follow each other's lead easily. Ohtori was pleased to find it seemed to translate well into this application, too.

Finally he was forced to pull back for air, panting harshly as he forced his eyes open again and looked down at Shishido through a haze of passion. His partner wasn't doing much better, leaning against the lockers like the metal was the only thing holding him upright, his lips already a bit swollen from kissing and his eyes glazed. It was all Ohtori could do not to lean right back in and kiss him again.

"Choutarou?" Shishido murmured before he could act on the impulse. "What... I thought we were waiting? What about..."

"No more waiting, Ryou," Ohtori interrupted him, his voice husky and lower than normal. He felt Shishido shiver against him, and saw the older boy's pupils dilate. "Jirou-san rubbed my nose in how stupid I've been being, and I don't need to be told twice. Forget about Kazuya. The only one I should be worried about making happy is you. I refuse to let my guilt come between us any more."

"Choutarou..." Apparently unable to come up with anything more meaningful than that, Shishido gave up the effort and just stretched up to kiss him again. "You won't regret this," he murmured against Ohtori's mouth a moment later, fiercely. "I swear you won't regret this, Choutarou. I'm gonna make you forget there was ever anyone but you and me... and I'm not going to fuck up this time."

Making a soft sound of agreement, Ohtori captured his mouth more fully so he'd have to stop talking. Now was not the time for talking - they'd done more than enough of that already over the last year, and far too much of it had been hurtful. Now was the time for making up for all of that in a visceral way that couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

As things grew more heated Ohtori was somewhat amused to realize that if he wasn't Shishido's first kiss, he was certainly _one of_ the first. It wasn't that the older boy was a bad kisser, per se, just that his inexperience showed in the way he was a bit too forceful and just a little unimaginative.

 _Never thought I'd be the senpai in this,_ Ohtori thought with some amusement as he drew back slightly, not breaking the kiss but rather coaxing Shishido into something both deeper and less agitated than what they had been doing. He took everything he'd ever learned with Amano and used it now on Shishido, playing and teasing and drawing the kiss out until they were both writhing against each other.

If nothing else, Shishido was a fast learner. It didn't take him long before he started trying to copy what Ohtori was doing, at first awkwardly but then with increasing confidence. When his tongue flicked against the roof of Ohtori's mouth the younger boy gasped and leaned harder into him. Then they _both_ gasped as their lower bodies ground together. Ohtori was too much taller than Shishido for them to line up properly, but he could feel Shishido's erection against his thigh as his own pressed into Shishido's upper hip.

"Gods, Choutarou," Shishido sounded like he was dying as he pulled away and buried his face in Ohtori's shoulder, his body shaking with need and passion. "You couldn't have waited until _after_ the tennis lesson to come to your damn senses?"

"No," Ohtori whispered, shaking his head before nuzzling into the soft strands of Shishido's hair. "Do you really think I could have gone through the whole two hours without tripping over my own feet if I'd been trying to hold this inside?"

"Guess not, but gods..." Shishido groaned and shifted against him, rubbing up hard. Ohtori's hands tightened on his muscled shoulders, and Shishido dipped his fingers past Ohtori's waistband in retaliation. "We're not gonna be able to play like this."

"Coach called to say he'd be late," Ohtori replied with a grin as Shishido moaned again at his words.

"Late enough for us to deal with _this_?" Shishido asked breathlessly, arching against him again and biting into the juncture of his throat and shoulder. This time it was Ohtori's turn to make an inarticulate sound of passion, tilting his head to give the older boy better access.

Before Ohtori could answer the door to the outside banged open, and a group of half a dozen chattering teenagers came into the change room. He and Shishido sprang apart like they'd been burned even though they couldn't be seen from the door, then gave each other sheepish looks.

"We'll finish this later," Shishido growled heatedly, the look in his eyes turning the words from a promise almost to a threat. Ohtori shivered, not in the least intimidated but more than a little turned on. "My family isn't home, you can come over after practice." He phrased it as a command more than a request, but Ohtori wasn't about to object. His family _was_ home, and if that kiss was anything to go by he doubted his ability to stay quiet if they went any farther.

Somehow they both managed to finish changing without any further incidents; this was in no small part due to the fact that they were never alone in the room again, and that they changed at opposite ends of the row. By the time they headed out onto the court tension between them was at an all-time high, yet Ohtori felt none of the stress that had always accompanied it before this. Instead there was only anticipation, an eager awareness that things were _finally_ coming to a head between them after almost a year.

Normally Ohtori was totally absorbed by their coached sessions, fascinated by everything they had to learn and all the things they could do to improve their game. They'd already noticeably improved even in the short time they'd been working with the man, and he knew Shishido felt the same way he did.

Today he found it difficult to concentrate, however. Time seemed to drag by interminably, and yet everything happened in a sort of haze such that he would look back on it later and not really be able to remember anything they'd learned.

Oddly, their performance didn't really suffer for their distraction. Maybe it was because they were so hyper-aware of each other, but they were reading each other better than ever. It did make it hard for them to pick up on the new things he was trying to teach them, however, and Ohtori could tell the coach had noticed the difference.

Finally the older man clapped his hands twice. "All right, that's enough for today," he declared, though according to Ohtori's watch they still had a good ten minutes to go. As always at the end of their lessons he and Shishido were both panting and dripping with sweat; the man worked them hard, pushed them to their limits, but neither of them were the type to complain when it was so obviously helping them.

"Go home and work it off," he instructed them wryly, and Ohtori blushed furiously as he realized what the man was implying. "Don't come into a session in this state again, understand me? It's a waste of my time and yours."

Well, chances were good that they weren't the first doubles pair the coach had worked with who were partners off as well as on the courts, and they probably wouldn't be the last either. Still blushing, he bowed slightly. "It won't happen again," he promised ruefully. It damn well better not! After today at least, there wouldn't be the sort of pent-up anticipation they were dealing with now.

"Make sure it doesn't," the coach agreed. "I'll see you both tomorrow. Be ready to work hard to make up for today."

"Yes sir!" they both chorused, and he nodded and turned to leave. As always the moment the door closed behind him, Shishido and Ohtori both staggered over to collapse on the bench, completely exhausted.

"Think we could have been any less obvious?" Shishido asked, and Ohtori chuckled.

"Maybe. If we'd really been trying," he replied wearily, groping blindly for his water bottle. He felt like he didn't have even enough energy to turn his head to look for it. "Thank you," he added as Shishido handed it to him without being asked. "I mean, we could have started making out in the middle of the court, or something..."

"We still could," Shishido suggested, turning his head to give Ohtori a sly smile. "We've got the court for another ten minutes. I can't tell you how many times I've fantasized about just pouncing you right into the court over the last couple of months..."

The blush that had been starting to fade returned with a vengeance. "Ryou!" he protested, laughing. Though the truth was, he'd thought the same thing himself more than a few times. "Do you really think ten minutes would be long enough?" he mock-pouted at his partner - at his boyfriend, he supposed, though it was still odd to think of the older boy in those terms.

"Not for what I've got planned, hell no," Shishido agreed with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But enough to get us back to the state we were in when we walked in here? Fuck yeah."

"Is that..." _really a good idea?_ he'd wanted to ask, but Shishido cut him off by turning on the bench and kissing him passionately. Since he wasn't _really_ objecting, Ohtori stopped trying to talk and just kissed him back, uncaring that anyone could look through the small window on the door and see them. At least this was the only court the facility had, so it wasn't like they were sharing the room with anyone else.

"All right, we're leaving now," Shishido declared gruffly as they drew apart again. Not very far; Ohtori had his hands tangled in the fabric of the older boy's shirt near the waist, and Shishido had draped his arms over Ohtori's shoulders, so there wasn't much room for them to separate.

"Sure, okay," Ohtori agreed in a daze. He made no move to get up, not sure his legs would support him, and still fighting the urge to lean in and kiss his partner again. He hoped this mindless urgency that had caught them _would_ ease once they'd gotten the worst of it out of their systems, or they were going to end up having trouble functioning any time they were together.

"You're not helping, Choutarou," Shishido groaned, smacking him lightly across the back of the head. When Ohtori gave him a surprised look, he sighed and unwound his arms, moving back on the bench. Ohtori let him go, and once they had some space between them it became a little easier to breathe. "That's better. Haven't I told you not to _look_ at me like that, damn it?"

"Was I looking at you like I wanted you to ravish me again?" Ohtori asked in amusement. "That's probably because I _do_ , actually. Why am I not allowed to do that any more?"

"Oh, you can do it all you like," Shishido agreed, his voice shaking slightly as he stood. "Just not in _public_! Or I'm going to end up doing something that'll get us both arrested, because all my much-vaunted determination and willpower is damn near non-existent where resisting you is concerned."

He offered the younger boy a hand up from the bench, and Ohtori accepted it, letting Shishido help him to his feet. Once he was up, though, he couldn't resist leaning in to kiss his partner again. Shishido moaned and fisted his hands in Ohtori's shirt, before abruptly pushing him away. "No more of that," he declared firmly, turning to gather up his equipment. His voice might be firm but his hands were shaking, Ohtori noticed.

Smiling, ignoring the way his own hands were a bit unsteady, Ohtori gathered his things as well. Just in time - as he was picking up the last ball basket the door opened and the next group of people entered the court.

"Here, you take my racquet and water, and I'll take the balls back to the front desk," Ohtori offered. Shishido nodded and traded his two baskets for Ohtori's equipment, leaning in close for a moment as he did so.

"Don't come into the showers until I come _out_ , or we really are going to end up arrested for public indecency," he warned, the flame of lust in his dark eyes making Ohtori shiver again. Unable to find his voice, Ohtori just nodded and tightened his grip on the baskets to help him stay anchored.

Watching Shishido walk off towards the change room, Ohtori took a deep breath and tried to get a grip on himself. They'd been denying themselves for so long that things were getting out of hand a bit too rapidly. He felt like he was spinning out of control, and while it wasn't an unpleasant sensation by far he was still worried about what would happen when the initial rush was over. He knew he'd made a lot of mistakes with Amano, and he didn't want to make the same ones or worse with Shishido.

Taking his time about it to give Shishido a chance to shower and change before he got there, Ohtori went up to the front desk and returned the balls. The pretty high school girl manning the desk smiled at him and tried to flirt with him, but all he could do was summon a faint smile in return and keep his answers short without being rude. Flirting with girls had never been something he was good at, and at that moment he had less interest in it than he ever had before. Shishido was waiting for him; strong, beautiful Shishido with his rough speech and sleek muscles. Why on earth would Ohtori want to stand around flirting with a girl, however pretty she might be?

It did mean that she dawdled over the paperwork a bit, trying to get him interested, and any time taken here meant there was a better chance he would _not_ walk in and find Shishido half naked, wet and dripping from his shower, and... gods, he really needed to stop thinking about it if he didn't want to embarrass himself. Finally he was able to make his escape when another group of people approached the desk and she was forced to give him up as a bad cause.

"Ryou?" he called as he entered the change room and made his way to the row where they'd left their things.

"Hey, what took you so long?" Shishido asked, leaning around the corner of the lockers to peer at him in curiosity. Ohtori was relieved to see that his partner was already wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and was just towelling his hair dry. "I was starting to think maybe you'd changed your mind."

"No," Ohtori replied immediately. He might have some reservations about how fast everything was happening now that there were no barriers between them, but the _last_ thing he was going to do was change his mind! "No, nothing like that, the girl at the desk was just flirting with me."

Even as the words left his mouth he winced, half-expecting a jealous inquiry as to whether he'd been flirting back. Amano's jealousy had always been strongest towards Shishido, but there had been hints of it towards everyone else, too.

Sure enough Shishido scowled, but his words surprised Ohtori. "What, is she stupid? Like someone as hot as you are wouldn't be taken already. Anyway," the scowl turned into a wry look, and Shishido laughed ruefully. "You're a tennis player, and apparently the majority of us aren't interested in women. You'd think she'd have figured that out, working here."

Laughing despite himself, Ohtori felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders. "She can always hope, I suppose. Let me just grab a quick shower and change, and then we can get out of here."

"I'll wait for you out front," Shishido said, and Ohtori nodded. That was probably wise, all things considered. One last heated look from his partner, and then Shishido was gone, leaving Ohtori to finish in peace.

Well, relative peace, anyway. Ohtori was glad there wasn't anyone in the immediate vicinity as he stripped down, because his body certainly wasn't shy about letting him know what it wanted. Blushing, he hurried into the shower area, wanting to be done as quickly as possible.

His relationship with Amano had gotten him used to having a regular outlet for the inevitable teenage hormones, even if they didn't usually follow it through to the very end. The time since he'd broken up with the other boy had been an exercise in frustration, and the current anticipation of what was coming wasn't helping matters any. Ohtori felt like he was wound tighter than a high-tension racquet string, and the least little pressure might break him entirely.

Standing under the hot water of the shower, he was tempted to release some of that tension by jerking off quickly. There wasn't anyone else in the shower room, though that could change with very little warning. It occurred to him to wonder if Shishido had been tempted by the same thing, and whether his partner had given in to the temptation. After all, it wasn't as if their bodies wouldn't recover fast enough for them to enjoy themselves by the time they got to Shishido's house, nearly half an hour away by transit.

Almost, he wished he'd thought to ask his partner before coming in here. Only that would have been far too embarrassing a question to just blurt out like that, and his cheeks heated just thinking about it. Groaning, Ohtori leaned against the slick tile of the shower wall and resigned himself to waiting. It wouldn't kill him, and if Shishido _had_ chosen to wait he might be disappointed if Ohtori hadn't.

Hurrying through the rest of his shower, Ohtori exited the room just as a couple of other men entered, laughing and joking to each other. He ducked his head as he passed them, not wanting them to see his flushed face and wonder about it. He was glad he'd decided to wait, or they might have caught him at it. He was equally glad for the towel he'd already wrapped around his waist.

It was a matter of moments for him to pull on his clothes and rub his hair half dry. The air would do the rest, it was short enough that it would be dry by the time they reached Shishido's place. Shoving his things into his tennis bag, he zipped it and slung it over his shoulder. With another deep breath to try to calm his racing heart, he headed out to meet Shishido.


	21. Chapter 21

Shishido was leaning against the wall by the front doors, watching for him. The look on his face had to be some kind of counterpart to the one he kept objecting to Ohtori giving _him_ ; it practically screamed 'You've got about ten seconds to brace yourself, because I _am_ going to ravish you now.'

"That's not fair either," Ohtori murmured breathlessly as he reached his partner. When Shishido cocked his head questioningly, Ohtori gave him a slightly shaky smile and elaborated. "The look on your face."

A slow smirk joined the heated expression. "C'mon Choutarou, let's go. The sooner we get home, the sooner we can stop just _looking_ at each other."

"Yes," Ohtori agreed simply. They walked out together, bags slung over their shoulders and their bodies brushing with every step, building the tension between them higher still.

Neither of them could find much to say on the crowded train to Shishido's station. Anything Ohtori could think of to talk about seemed either completely uninteresting or far too personal for such a public place. The fact that Shishido _still_ looked like he was seconds away from pouncing him didn't help any, and he kept getting distracted from the few conversation attempts he did start.

By the time they finally reached Shishido's apartment building Ohtori was wishing he had jerked off in the shower after all. The electric tension between them was enough to scorch him, and Ohtori was almost shivering with it.

The moment the door of the apartment closed behind them Shishido had Ohtori pressed up against it, kissing him hard and fierce. Ohtori responded with a moan, his eyes closing as he fell into the heat of it. He could only hope that Shishido had been right about his family not being home.

"You didn't take very long in the shower," Shishido observed as he pulled away slightly, panting. "Did you touch yourself, Choutarou?"

So much for that question being too embarrassing to ask. Ohtori's cheeks flushed again, but his eyes sparkled with mischief and lust as he shook his head. "No," he replied, his voice husky. "I wasn't sure if you had and didn't want to if you hadn't. Did you?"

"Thought about it, but there were other people around," Shishido admitted, drawing back and tugging Ohtori away from the door by the hand. "Anyway, why settle for what I've been doing all along when the real thing is waiting for me? C'mon, my family are gone all weekend. Let's go to my room."

They both kicked off their shoes, padding down the hall in their bare feet. Pochi came bounding up to jump on Ohtori and lick at his hands, and he laughed and scratched her ears. He didn't stop to play with her as he usually would have, though; Shishido's expression promised murder and mayhem if they put this off much longer.

Once they were in his room Shishido closed the door, leaving the dog on the other side. She whined a bit, but neither of the boys were in any mood to play with her. Ohtori had honestly expected to be pushed against the door again the moment it was closed, but instead Shishido hesitated, looking at him almost uncertainly.

"Look, Choutarou," the older boy cleared his throat. "I don't want to fuck this up by making assumptions, damn it. _I'm_ sure as hell not going to put the brakes on, but if we're going too fast or I do something you don't want, _tell_ me okay? I can't read your mind, however much it might feel like I can sometimes on the court."

Swallowing, Ohtori nodded. Shishido was all but coming right out and saying that if Ohtori didn't object, they were going to end up having sex today. The thought made Ohtori more than a little nervous. It wasn't that he didn't want to, exactly, but what if he was too sore to play properly tomorrow? The coach wasn't going to forgive them for a poor performance twice in a row.

"What is it?" Shishido had moved closer, and the heat in his eyes had been banked behind a shield of concern. "Choutarou? You look worried. Whatever it is, you have to tell me, okay? I promise I won't get mad or be frustrated or any shit like that. It's no fun for me if you aren't as into it as I am."

"It's just I'm..." Ohtori shook his head, his voice hoarse with nerves. "I don't want to be too stiff to play tomorrow. And I don't want to just rush into this. But," he gave Shishido a helpless look. "If I was willing to do it for Kazuya, then it's stupid for me to tell you I'm not ready." He bit his lip. "So... so it's okay. Whatever you want to do. I want it too, Ryou."

"What?" Surprised, Shishido caught him by the shoulders. "Whoa, hang on a minute. You're not seriously trying to tell me that just because you had sex with Amano, you think you've got no reason to want to wait with me?" When Ohtori just nodded slightly, Shishido smacked him on the side of the head hard enough to sting.

"Dumbass!" the older boy almost snarled, scowling. "Don't be stupid, Choutarou. Fuck, if this was a first date with someone else, would you be hopping into bed with them just because you'd done it before?"

"No, of course not," Ohtori said, frowning. "It's not the same thing. You and I... it's different. This isn't a 'first date'. We're way past that point, and I think maybe we have been since you first asked me to help you train."

"It's exactly the same thing," Shishido retorted. "For such a bright guy you're remarkably dense sometimes Choutarou. It doesn't matter if you've done it before, or how fast you did it with someone else. This is about you and me, nobody else. You don't have to do a damn thing you're not ready for." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did Amano push you into having sex with him?"

"No!" Ohtori denied that firmly, knowing that if Shishido even suspected such a thing was true he'd probably run off to beat the hell out of Ohtori's ex-boyfriend. "No, definitely not. I think maybe I pressured myself into it, but it wasn't his fault."

Reaching out, he tugged his partner into an embrace, burying his face in the still-damp strands of Shishido's hair. "I do want this, Ryou. I want _you_. I'm just nervous."

"We'll take it slow, then," Shishido assured him, leaning into him. "No sex till you say you're ready, I promise." He turned his head so Ohtori could see his wicked grin. "There's plenty of other things we can have fun doing, I'm sure." He leaned up and captured Ohtori's mouth in another steamy kiss, effectively distracting the younger boy from any further concerns.

 _Worry about it when you get to that point,_ he told himself firmly. Hopefully by the time they got that far he'd have gotten worked up enough not to care any more. No matter what Shishido said, it didn't feel right to withhold anything from his partner that he'd given his ex-boyfriend. He'd decided to stop holding back from what they both wanted, and he hadn't intended for there to be any limits or restrictions on that decision.

For now, though, he was perfectly happy to just enjoy himself and not think about it for a while. He kissed Shishido back, teasing with his tongue as he explored to find all of Shishido's most sensitive spots. It didn't take long before he had the older boy shivering against him, hands clenched on Ohtori's shoulders as they pressed tighter together.

"Gods, you're really good at that," Shishido murmured as they finally drew apart to catch their breath. "You're going to make me feel inadequate if you're not careful."

"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you," Ohtori assured him breathlessly. "You're a fast learner." They kissed again, Ohtori's hands coming to Shishido's waist this time to tug at the sides of his shirt, trying to get it untucked from his jeans.

Taking a step back, Shishido tugged Ohtori after him. "Bed," he commanded between quick, hungry kisses. "You're too damn tall, I can't reach you properly."

"Clothes first," Ohtori insisted, resisting the movement. "Or we'll get all tangled up, trust me."

Growling, whether in frustration at the delay or because of the reminder that he wasn't Ohtori's first, Shishido nevertheless stopped trying to pull him over to the bed. "Hurry," was all he said as their hands fumbled with each other's clothes.

It should have been slow, an opportunity to explore each other as each piece of clothing came off. That was how Ohtori had always imagined it, anyway. Reality was nowhere near as patient, however. They'd waited too long, teased each other too much, and now there was only a desperate need to be skin to skin at long last that caused them to tear at fabric and fastenings with muffled curses. In the end, Ohtori discovered, he didn't really care if it matched his fantasy. It was _good_ , that was all that mattered. They could do the slow exploring next time.

Or the time after that, or the time after _that_... because there was no way Ohtori was letting go of Shishido any time soon. They'd have plenty of time to try everything either of them could think of.

Finally his hands were tracing over the sleek muscles he'd been admiring in the change room with nothing between them and his fingers but Shishido's smooth skin. Still kissing hungrily, Shishido pushed him towards the bed again and this time Ohtori went willingly. Part of him couldn't believe this was really happening at last. The rest of him was just enjoying itself, totally beyond any sort of coherent thought.

Once he had Ohtori half pinned to the mattress Shishido seemed to take hold of himself, slowing the pace a bit despite Ohtori's protesting moan. His hot mouth trailed over the bare skin of Ohtori's chest, tracing the muscles tennis and training had carved on him, teasing him with little licks and nips. "Ryou!" Ohtori exclaimed as his partner bit down on one taut nipple, worrying at it with his teeth.

"Too much?" Shishido asked, lifting up slightly to look at him.

"Not hardly," Ohtori replied, frustrated. "I want to touch you too."

An unholy glee joined the lust in his partner's eyes. "Patience, Choutarou," the older boy murmured, ducking his head and biting again. With a soft cry Ohtori writhed beneath him, arching against him and rubbing up to try to get the friction his body was demanding.

He could feel Shishido's cock hard against his thigh, and he shifted his leg to press against it. That wrung a moan from the older boy, but Ohtori didn't have long to enjoy his victory. Shishido's fingers wrapped around him in return, making his breath catch in his throat as he stroked slowly over the sensitive skin.

Well, two could play at that game. Ohtori slid his hand between them and ran his fingers lightly over Shishido's erection, marvelling at the feel of it. The foreskin slid easily back as he tugged it down, letting him rub his fingertips against the sensitive head and making Shishido gasp and jerk against him.

"Tease," Shishido growled, but there was no rancour in the word. "You know what teases get, Choutarou?"

"Ravished?" Ohtori hazarded a guess, grinning down at his partner.

"Nope." Shishido sounded just a bit too smug for Ohtori's peace of mind, considering the situation. The younger boy's grin faded as he saw the wicked look on his partner's face. "They get teased back."

Now it was Ohtori's turn to gasp as Shishido shifted down further, moving so his body was cradled between Ohtori's legs and he could reach the younger boy's cock with his mouth. A high-pitched whine escaped Ohtori as he writhed beneath the feel of Shishido's mouth over him, just teasing the tip with lips and tongue. Here again Shishido's inexperience was obvious; he was just a bit hesitant and Ohtori saw him grimace with the taste at first. The expression would have made him laugh if he hadn't been busy panting for air.

"Ryou, you have to... oh gods..." The words he wanted refused to form coherently, and Ohtori's hands fisted in the bedspread. Embarrassing as it was, he was on the edge already. He really should have jerked off in the shower after all, because he wasn't going to last long at this rate. "Stop, please," he pleaded, tossing his head on the pillow.

"You kidding me?" Shishido snorted against him, making him shudder. "I've been dreaming about this since I saw... never mind." To Ohtori's amazement Shishido slowly turned bright red. He would have asked, curious, but Shishido distracted him again by licking at his slit, picking up the salty drops that had already formed there. Ohtori cried out and writhed against him.

"Gods, Ryou, I can't..." Clinging to control with every shred of will he had, Ohtori was reduced almost to begging. "Please..."

Shishido wasn't stopping, though, and finally Ohtori could hold off orgasm no longer. He came hard with a keening cry, his whole body shuddering with the force of it. He felt Shishido try to swallow, and then the other boy came up coughing and sputtering, making Ohtori laugh even through the last spasms.

"Holy _fuck_ does that ever taste bad," Shishido exclaimed, wiping his mouth with one hand and making a disgusted face. "I mean, I'd heard it was bad, but that was _awful_. How can _anyone_ swallow that?"

"You get used to it," Ohtori snickered. He'd reacted much the same way the first time he'd tasted it. And several times after the first time, as well. Tugging Shishido up, he kissed him firmly to prove that he didn't mind the taste in the least.

Despite how good it had felt Ohtori had to admit to being just a little disappointed. He was surprised to realize how much he had been hoping that Shishido would ignore his earlier words and take him anyway. He _had_ come to learn to enjoy sex with Amano, however much it hurt at first, and he wanted to experience it with Shishido.

He didn't really mind that much if they stopped here, though. He'd return the favour and was more than happy to do so, and they could save the rest for later. Breaking the kiss, Ohtori started to slide down his partner's body.

To his surprise, Shishido stopped him. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" the older boy asked with a glint in his eyes that made Ohtori's breath catch. "I'm not done with you yet. Not after waiting this long."

"But..." Wide-eyed, Ohtori stared at him. Granted, like most teenage males his recovery rate was pretty fast, but surely Shishido wasn't planning to wait that long for his own release? Wouldn't it make more sense for Ohtori to pleasure him now, and then they could _both_ wait until they'd recovered to start again?

"Do you trust me?" Shishido asked, catching his chin and making him look straight into the older boy's eyes.

"Of course," Ohtori answered, bewildered. What did trust have to do with it?

"Good." Satisfied at what he saw in Ohtori's expression, Shishido released him. "We're not done yet, Choutarou, not by a long shot."

Blinking in confusion, Ohtori watched as Shishido shifted off him long enough to stretch across and fumble in his bedside drawer. When the older boy came up with a familiar-looking tube, Ohtori stifled a shocked noise. "I thought you said..."

"I'm not going to take you," Shishido reassured him, nuzzling against the side of his neck. "Not yet, anyway. Not till you're begging me for it. And whether that happens today, or next week, or next _year_ , I don't care."

"Then what...?" Ohtori trailed off, his mind racing over possibilities. Was Shishido offering to let _him_ top? If so, he shouldn't have made Ohtori come a moment ago because there was no way he'd be ready for that until he recovered. And while the thought wasn't entirely unappealing it wasn't what he'd imagined, what he'd wanted for so long.

"Trust me," Shishido repeated, nipping at his collarbone. "Just relax, Choutarou."

 

Instead of relaxing, Ohtori automatically braced himself as Shishido squeezed some of the slick gel onto his palm. "Relax," Shishido commanded him again. "I'm not gonna hurt you. If it hurts, tell me to stop right away."

"Wha..." The bewildered question turned into a shocked noise as Shishido slid his hand down and rubbed the lube directly onto and around his ass. Well, some small remaining rational part of Ohtori's brain thought, he supposed there was no reason not to apply it there as well, rather than just coating the top's cock with it and lubricating it that way.

Then the shocked noise tailed off in a moan as Shishido slipped one finger inside him, working the lube deeper inside him. Ohtori writhed at the totally unexpected sensation, already half hard again to his own surprise. "Ryou," he choked out, panting for air. Gods it felt good. It was everything he enjoyed about sex, only without the painful stretching. Why hadn't it ever occurred to him and Amano to try this? How had Shishido thought to do it?

"Feels good, huh?" Shishido murmured, his tone husky with amusement and barely-restrained lust. "Told you I wouldn't hurt you." He was sliding his finger slowly in and out, mimicking the motions of sex at an excruciatingly slow pace. Whimpering softly Ohtori arched his hips, mindlessly trying to drive him deeper.

"That's it," Shishido encouraged him, lowering his head to bite at Ohtori's nipples again. The next time he withdrew, it felt like he added a second finger. _Something_ made it feel more full, and stretched Ohtori just the slightest bit. He whimpered again, but it didn't hurt, not yet. The stretching sensation felt odd but not painful, and was more than overwhelmed by the pleasure.

Then Shishido curved his fingers upwards, searching, and Ohtori cried out and shuddered beneath him. "Oh gods..." Apparently that spot inside him that had always driven him wild when Amano moved against it was reachable with your fingers. Almost sobbing, Ohtori arched up again, trying to get more of that amazing, mind-blowing sensation. As good as it felt during sex, it was a million times better when there wasn't any pain to distract him from it.

He was fully hard again already, aching with lust as he writhed against those clever, clever fingers. Vaguely he was aware of Shishido hushing him, stroking Ohtori's hip with his free hand to help calm him. He wanted that hand on his cock, damn it. Though he was fairly certain that if Shishido touched him now, while pressing against that spot inside him, it would be all over for him _again_. And he doubted he'd get it up as quickly a third time, teenage hormones or not.

When Shishido stopped pressing and returned to stroking slowly inside him, Ohtori started swearing at him incoherently. Laughing, Shishido kept stroking in and out of him, flicking one fingertip up every so often just to see Ohtori choke and writhe again.

This time when Shishido added a finger the burn of the stretch was noticeable, but Ohtori didn't _care_. It still didn't hurt, not really, and the only thing he could focus on was the way his whole body would spasm every time Shishido fingered that spot inside him.

Belatedly it occurred to him that three fingers must have been forcing him open nearly as wide as Shishido's cock would have. Unlike Amano and Ohtori, the older boy didn't have a musician's long, slender fingers. Why didn't it hurt? Amano had gone this slow sometimes, so it wasn't just a matter of speed.

Lost in the pleasure and his own confused thoughts, Ohtori nearly screamed when Shishido suddenly withdrew his fingers entirely. "Ryou!" he cried out, clutching helplessly at his partner's shoulders. He felt empty and aching inside, his cock was weeping with need, and he'd really been enjoying the thought of coming with Shishido's fingers stroking inside him, giving pleasure but no pain.

"Shh," Shishido hushed him, moving up to kiss him and cradle him gently in his arms. It was nice, but it wasn't anything near what Ohtori _wanted_ , damn it. "It's all right, Choutarou."

"It bloody well is _not_ 'all right'," Ohtori countered, opening his eyes to glare at his partner. Who, he discovered to his further irritation, was smirking at him again. At least this time the smirk was tempered by the blazing need in Shishido's eyes, and the way his whole body was shaking slightly. He was just as badly off as Ohtori was, clearly. Despite the empty feeling that was eating away at his insides, Ohtori smiled at him. "What's wrong, Ryou? Did it turn you on to do that to me?"

"Damn fucking straight it did," Shishido growled, kissing him again fiercely this time. "What do you want, Choutarou? You want me to go back and finish you off like that, and then you can suck me off afterwards?"

"Yes," Ohtori started to agreed almost desperately. Then he shook his head, contradicting himself. "No. I..." Almost hesitantly he reached for Shishido's cock, making the older boy gasp and shudder against him as he wrapped his fingers around it. Shishido was hard, so hard Ohtori could practically feel him throbbing with the same need that pulsed through Ohtori's veins. He had a long, relatively slender cock, and Ohtori didn't think it _was_ much wider than three fingers, especially Shishido's fingers.

"I want... you inside me," he whispered, not quite able to look his partner in the eyes as he said it. He still wasn't completely sure, but he wanted to try. Shishido was no bigger than Amano, at least, so it couldn't possible hurt any _worse_.

"You sure?" Shishido sounded like he was nearing the breaking point, but he still stopped to ask. "Choutarou, are you really damn sure? Because once I start I don't think I could stop."

"I'm sure," Ohtori said, his voice a little stronger this time. He looked up at Shishido, his eyes determined. "I'm sure," he repeated more firmly. "I want you, Ryou. Do it, please."

"Just..." Shishido's voice cracked, and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as he visibly fought for control. "Just a second."

He reached for the drawer again, to Ohtori's confusion. What else could they possibly need? He blushed again when his partner withdrew a little square foil packet. Oh. Right, that.

"Why?" he asked, confused. "We don't need it, do we?" It wasn't like he could get pregnant. And he'd only ever been with Amano, and they'd both been virgins at the time. As far as he knew Shishido hadn't ever been with anyone else - though he was starting to wonder, given how _good_ he apparently was at this - so they shouldn't be in any danger of disease.

"There's things you can get even if you've never had sex before," Shishido muttered, a blush staining his cheeks as well.

"How do you know all this stuff?" Ohtori couldn't resist asking as Shishido tore open the little packet. Reaching out, Ohtori helped him smooth the condom over Shishido's cock, feeling a little disappointed as the sleek skin was hidden from him by the thin sheath.

Somewhat to his amusement, Shishido's blush grew brighter. "Atobe dragged me home with him last night and gave me like an hour long lecture," he muttered to Ohtori's total shock. "I don't know how the hell he suspected this was going to happen soon, but he said he damn well wasn't going to let me fuck _this_ up too."

Caught between laughter and mortification at the mental image of Atobe lecturing Shishido about how to have sex, Ohtori choked and buried his face in Shishido's shoulder. "He didn't," he protested, body shaking with laughter. "Surely not even Atobe-san... oh gods. He must have known what Jirou-san was planning to say to me. How does _he_ know all this stuff? Or do I not want to ask?"

"Meddling bastards," Shishido complained without any real anger. "He said he got it from research off the net, mostly. How he found anything but porn sites I'll never know."

"You too?" Ohtori blurted out, then bit his lip against another burst of nervous laughter. He'd tried that after his disastrous first time with Amano, but hadn't been able to find much. The knowledge that Shishido had faced the same problem was amusing; almost as amusing as the thought of their former captain browsing around looking for the same information.

"Let's stop talking about Atobe," Shishido suggested, his eyes darkening as he moved in to kiss Ohtori again. "I've got more interesting things to think about. Like driving you slowly out of your mind."

"You've already done that," Ohtori assured him, his voice going husky again as Shishido pumped his hand over Ohtori's cock briefly. "Gods, Ryou, just take me already. I can't stand it much longer."

"You and me both," Shishido murmured, shifting until he was lying cradled against Ohtori's hips again. Ohtori raised his knees to give him better access, starting to feel nervous again as Shishido's cock rubbed against him. It hadn't felt nearly that big in his hand, but then again maybe that was just his nerves speaking.

"Hey, relax," Shishido urged him again. Ohtori tried, but only ended up tensing further because he knew that if he _didn't_ relax it was going to hurt even more.

Shifting, Shishido held himself up on his hands over Ohtori's body, looking up at him. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice carrying the force of an order. Ohtori did and was immediately caught by the intensity in Shishido's eyes. "Good," the older boy murmured. "Now don't look away. Just keep watching me."

They stared at each other for a long moment, and Ohtori was inevitably reminded of the game where he'd accidentally struck Shishido with a Scud Serve. Shishido had done this to calm him then, too, and it had worked well. He blushed as he remembered that he'd wondered at the time what it would be like to have sex while doing this. Apparently he was about to find out.

Slowly their breathing synchronized, fast as it was. Still staring intently down into his eyes, Shishido pressed forward. It felt... odd, like the three fingers had but more so. The stretching was _almost_ painful, but it was nothing like what he was used to feeling. Surprised, he let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and relaxed a little more. That helped, and the larger head of Shishido's cock finally slipped inside him.

Now it _only_ felt full, and he made a little noise of surprise. Their height difference was too great for Shishido to be able to kiss him from this position, but the older boy ducked his head and licked at Ohtori's chest, still not breaking his gaze.

Ohtori could feel the effort it was taking for Shishido to restrain himself in the way the older boy was shaking, but he eased himself forward an inch at a time, giving Ohtori more than enough time to adjust. By the time he was all the way inside Ohtori was moaning and squirming beneath him, trying to urge him to forget about going slow and just _hurry_. It didn't hurt, and that meant he got all the exquisite pleasure without the distracting pain. He wanted more, and he wanted it _now_.

"Ryou!" he gasped when his partner stopped and just rested there for a long moment, panting. "Ryou, gods, you're killing me. _Move_!"

"If I move right now, that's all you're gonna get," Shishido gritted out through clenched teeth, and the look in his eyes was so hot Ohtori felt scorched all the way through. "Just gimme a second, Choutarou. Hold _still_ damn it!" he added desperately when Ohtori squirmed again.

A sly smile tugged at the corner of Ohtori's mouth. "Why?" he asked in his best innocent tone. "What happens when I move?" He arched up, driving Shishido just a little further into him, and they both gasped.

"Choutarou!" Shishido protested, obviously hanging onto his control by the barest margin. He finally looked away, closing his eyes and fighting with himself to stay still.

"Do it, Ryou," Ohtori murmured, wrapping his arms around the older boy and tugging him close. "I want to feel you. I want you to break me into a million pieces."

"Fuck," Shishido swore, and gave in. He pulled out and thrust home again almost violently, the motion rocking Ohtori back against the pillow until he almost hit the headboard. Still there was no pain, and Ohtori revelled in the force of it.

"More," he begged, tilting his hips up to try to get Shishido to hit that spot inside him again. Groaning, Shishido thrust into him harder, though he refused to speed his pace. He shifted to change his angle as Ohtori tipped his hips up farther, and the younger boy's eyes nearly rolled back into his head in sheer ecstasy as Shishido drilled straight into that amazing place.

"Gods!" he cried out, tossing his head back. The fingers had been good, but this was better. Way, _way_ better. With no pain at all involved, he felt like he really was going to fly apart at the seams if it continued much longer. Yet he had absolutely no desire to stop.

As good as it felt, though, he didn't think he'd be able to come just from this, and it didn't sound like Shishido was going to last much longer. Snaking his hand down between them, Ohtori grasped his own cock and stroked it in time to Shishido's thrusts. He thought it would have felt even better if Shishido were the one touching him, but he could tell by the way the older boy's arms were shaking that it was all he could do to hold himself up as it was. That was fine; if it had been any better Ohtori seriously thought he might have had a heart attack.

It didn't take more than a few strokes before the familiar tightening feeling swept over him, like everything in his body was winding up for this one last moment. With a shout that made him glad they were alone in the apartment, the tension finally snapped and Ohtori came _hard_ all over his hand and stomach.

"Choutarou," Shishido gasped like it was his dying prayer, and opened his eyes to stare into Ohtori's again. He was still moving through the spasms of Ohtori's body, his thrusts growing frantic and increasingly unsteady. The fire in his eyes turned the irises into glittering sapphires, and Ohtori stared back at him utterly entranced. _Here_ was the connection he'd always thought sex should create, the feeling that they were one being in two not-very-separate bodies. He cried out again as Shishido tensed and shuddered against him, spilling his seed and collapsing against Ohtori's chest.

From somewhere Ohtori summoned the energy to wrap his arms around his partner, rubbing gently at the twitching muscles of his back. He could feel Shishido's hot breath gusting over his throat in ragged pants, and the older boy was still shivering as the aftershocks wore off.

"I love you." For a long moment Ohtori wasn't even sure which of them had said the words. He wasn't sure it really mattered. The reverent whisper encompassed everything they'd been through, everything they were feeling right now, and everything they ever might be to each other. It was so different from, and so far beyond, the crush he'd had on his partner last year that it couldn't even begin to be compared. And it felt utterly, inexplicably _right_ in a way Ohtori couldn't define. Certainly in a way it had never felt with Amano.

In that moment Ohtori knew that as much as he'd cared for his ex-boyfriend, he'd never loved him. Not like this. The realization made him sad, a little, but mostly just grateful that he and Shishido had managed to fix things between them before they'd lost the chance at this.

"Love you too, Choutarou," Shishido replied, turning to nuzzle against Ohtori's shoulder. His voice was full of sleepy satisfaction, like he'd just been given everything he'd ever wanted.

Running the fingers of one hand idly through his partner's - his lover's - hair, Ohtori sighed in utter contentment. For all the pain and heartbreak it had taken to get them to this point, he decided, it was still worth it.


End file.
